Of Satin Criminals and Mafia Men
by Alias Blackclaw
Summary: Rated M for a reason. LeonxAda "Careful and precise planning was a do it or die for anyone thinking of taking a full time career as a person of espionage. If you didn't know every inch of your plan intimately, you were snuffed out."  Dropped Story
1. Part I

_A/N: This is either a Kink Meme request gone horribly right, or horribly out of proportion. Either way, I'm completely 100% satisfied. This is rated M for a reason, and I'm not even sure where my mind went on some of these parts, but hey, I think you guys will enjoy it. 3 _

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**Of Satin Criminals and Mafia Men**

Careful and precise planning was a do it or die for anyone thinking of taking a full time career as a person of espionage. If you didn't know every inch of your plan intimately, you were snuffed out. The plan she was given by her employer was simple. She would take this cheap used car down to the intersection of Civic and Laughlin, park it around the back of the old pharmaceutics warehouse there, and leave. The timed bomb in the trunk would detonate two hours afterwards. She would be nowhere in the area when the warehouse went sky high, reclining in the back of her spacious escorted limousine. It was an easy mission, with a well laid plan.

It was a very hot autumn night and the humidity hung in the air like mist. Ada Wong leaned back against the damp upholstery, a frustrated hiss escaping her lips. Now, she wasn't a person to normally complain or show any kind of outward displeasure with what she was given to do a job, but the damn vehicle not only smelled overwhelmingly like a pine scented air freshener, but the air conditioning didn't work! It was the end of October in Nevada, and she had no comfort from the ever present heat of the desert. The woman parked the car in the designated spot, hopping out of the frying pan and into the fire. There was no change in the amount of hot air that kissed her exposed legs, and she let a sigh punctuate how irritating that fact really was. Her thigh-high summer dress was sticking to her skin, creating undesirable wrinkles around her thin hips, and making her that much more irate.

At least the limousine would be much cooler. That notion made her walk ever more briskly through the alleyways, blending in with the small bubbles of busy people wandering the walkways. Even at such a late hour, this city was still functioning. It didn't compare to the neon hysteria of it's neighbor, Las Vegas, but in the long run, it was for the best that it didn't. She preferred blowing up something in a smaller port town, to something in one of the most visited places in America. Ada rolled her lips together, attempting to rid herself of the sweat beads that were tarnishing her "fire red" lipstick, and failing of course. It was too damn hot in the desert.

The limousine pulled up on the corner of the street just as planned, and the driver stepped out, walking the long way around to get the door for her. Whatever his identity, he looked like he was wearing a Halloween costume, and that fact made her pause on the sidewalk. He was dressed in what she would consider "Hollywood mafia man regalia". Black fedora, black trench coat, dress pants, stray red tie, and some black sunglasses in the dead of night made this guy completely stand out. She was all for the obnoxious and revealing, but this was ridiculous. It was best not to argue on how bizarre he looked, so she simply got in without a word. Like she had hoped, the air inside was cool and refreshing, and she gave a relieved exhale as the refreshing chill blanketed her. The driver closed his door and she took the moment to study her escort.

"Ada…"

His lips formed every single thing that made the plan that she had so thoroughly reviewed, moot. The man drove through streets without further word, and all she could do was stare sharply and try to hide the oh-so obvious shock threatening to render her motionless. She had certainly not expected that voice at all.

"Am I captured, Agent Kennedy?"

The man behind the wheel turned the corner, and said nothing in response as the city scene strolled merrily by. She didn't know what to take his silence as. This man who didn't talk back was alien to her, a fluke in a supposedly easy plan.

"I had a feeling that it was going to be you I was picking up." he murmured, turning the sleek black limo left again. "-so I tried to surprise you."

He was being dryly sarcastic, and possibly a fraction serious.

"Consider me floored with astonishment." she replied, her own smooth voice dishing out it's own thick exaggeration. He laughed lightly, and made another left. He went in a circle… And taking her back to where she started.

"It seems like I'm caught." she sighed, crossing her slender legs in front of her and letting the damp red fabric drape only slightly over her knee. Leon Scott Kennedy responded with a casual nod, turning the last corner to the warehouse she had left mere minutes ago. "Red handed, I'm afraid."

The pun was in bad taste, and she was in a very, very bad situation, but the woman in the red dress was calmer than she had been when driving that shitty Impala. It had been one year since they had met last, two years since that little rendezvous in Spain, eight years since Raccoon City, and a good eighty years since any kind of outfit like that was worn in public. Whatever the reason behind the 1920s gangster style, the very presence of such an outfit made the entire scenario seem like a joke. He parked the car and turned to her, lowering the sunglasses in a way that made her restrain a bout of laughter. It had to be a joke, she decided. Leon wasn't taking this seriously, and in turn, she definitely wasn't (Which was a pretty bad thing for a woman of her caliber).

"So. Are you going to disarm that bomb or should I?"

"And here I thought you approved of such action, Capone." she quipped, lounging back against the cool leather of the seat. Leon tipped his head slightly, regarding her with a rather serious set of blue eyes. Oh, so he was strictly business now? Her conceited air and posture didn't disappear, and he let a raspy sigh fall from his lips in dejection, taking the shades off and pocketing them as he ducked out the door, taking the key with him. Somehow, he didn't seem bothered by the abnormal heat under that heavy trench coat. With an incredible wave of bemusement, she noted that he didn't take the fedora off his head. Again, whether this had become more a joke and less a serious situation, was completely up in the air.

She could have made a break for it right then (or shot him like she should have), but she didn't, instead unraveling her posture and following him out into the lot. He had not answered her two unasked queries, instead pushing her away with a roundabout chain of sarcasm. Leon was, she found, completely deadpan serious about disarming the explosive himself, and her internal spy finally told her to draw her gun and point it at his head. The man stopped his inspection of the trunk lid and turned his head, the fedora cocked at just an angle to reveal one of those laser-blue eyes. That eye trailed lazily on the mouth of her sleek black weapon, and then looked up at the brim of his ever-stylish hat, denying her eye contact.

"I almost forgot that you had a penchant for showing off your guns. Can it wait until after I remove the threat of a mushroom cloud?" he turned to face her, the long honey colored bangs sifting from under the hat, but concealing his left eye persistently.

"Sorry, daddy, but this mission's a bit more valuable than your everyday warehouse."

Leon took the moment to chuckle humorlessly, the shadows cast over his face as he turned back to the trunk. "I don't mean to ruin your show, but car bombs explode."

He was persistent in this, and as much as it annoyed her to admit it, he had the advantage. With tourists and inhabitants crawling through the streets, if she resigned to shoot him, she had only the fatal kind of gunshot to resort to. He knew she wasn't going to shoot. Leon had pried open the trunk with a lock pick, and she frowned, pondering what exactly to do about this situation.

"…Leon." she crooned, letting the gun fall to her side as the hot air pressed upon her body. She knew exactly how to distract him from the job at hand. At her velvety tongue, he shook his head, eyes focused on the monstrous contraption wired snugly into the back of the car.

"Trying to seduce me to save your mission, again?"

He bit down on his lower lip, wiping the beads of perspiration that had sprouted in the humidity. Damn, it was hot.

"Is it working, handsome?"

He felt her hands snake around his waist, and once again, he shook his head to attempt a distraction from the luxurious purr rolling off her lips.

Leon forced his hands to operate the machine, and not to stop Ada's from traveling "Can I take a rain check…?" he murmured, using that well practiced restraint to find the specific wires necessary to cut, instead of giving in to the pressure she was so good at creating. The fact that it was over ninety degrees didn't make focus any easier to achieve.

Her voluptuous chuckle answered for her. Caught between his mission and his libido again. Last time, she had won in that seedy excuse for a hotel room, but this time he wasn't dealing with a tiny metal disk of information, but an active bomb. Ada pressed her well manicured nails into the fabric of the dress pants and commended the poor guy for his resilience. Last time, he was carnal, desperate, and so full of despondence and upset, that he gave in without much of a fight. This time, he was using the willpower of a man on a mission-tracked mind.

"Ada." he warned, but weakly. His voice carried the weakness that his will refused to admit just yet, and he snapped the cords one after another. The machine buzzed quietly, effectively shot, and he stood still, her hands resting on the hem of his pants. She teased him, used that weakness of his to gain leverage without much in the way of regret, and as much as that knowledge was painful, he just couldn't stop. She didn't realize what had happened?

Perhaps he was a damn hypocritical fool, but he had the upper hand and no qualms against using it against her, like she so often did to him. Leon brought a hand to rest atop her own two, the calloused pads cupping over hers in a quiet acceptance, while he smirked from under the shadow of his fedora.

"I do have some spare time, now, and you offered."

He felt her tense, comprehension of the meaning taking around a second. Ada's elegant hands were stuck from his words, damp from the humidity and frozen from realization. It was then, in that moment, that he knew that he had caught her off guard for the second time that evening. It was as satisfying as it was interesting. Perhaps he needed to dress like this more often.

Ada wanted so much to let her hold drop and simply shoot him in the leg for ruining what was supposed to be an effortless plan. Irritation with the heat, with him in his damn mobster getup, and with herself for not plugging a cap into a limb earlier, all took hold of her mind at once, and expelled itself in a soft growl.

Leon turned slowly then, breaking her hold and throwing a firm, longing ocean-eyed gaze at her. She knew it was game over, but there was no backup plan for something like this. He approached her, wary but confident in his motions, cupping her cheek and thumbing the smooth skin.

"I'm still your escort for the evening." he murmured huskily, the level of his voice borderline suggestive, and partway romancer. So this was what a little power did to him, or was it just that fraction of leverage he had over **her**?

"I'd rather no-" he cut her off with a wet, sweaty kiss, the brilliant blue of his eyes encased in the shadows that hat created. He looked so bloody dark and handsome, carnal and passionate in this light, that those ghosts of regret wisped into her mind again. This one kiss was enough to push those ghosts back into existence. She hadn't the resolve to pull away to actually do her damn job.

He suckled lightly on her lips, tasting the odd mixture of makeup and salt and finding it all too satisfying. "Ada…"

Her name was a hum from his lips to hers, and that was when she stepped away sharply, her expression unguarded for once. "Leon… We can't do this-"

"-when it actually means something?" he finished, the look in his eyes hopelessly determined. "-because it's too dangerous, right? Too complicated? Too detrimental to your mission?"

With every few words, he fidgeted, hesitating to step closer, and wanting to terribly. "I've already resigned myself to the fact-" he stepped closer, his voice grave, firm, and honestly baring the last thing she wanted to see right now. "-that you will be the death of me."

A soft weak laugh was her response, and she shook her head, turning to leave right then and there, but he grabbed her arm gently. "Give me the satisfaction of an answer, at least."

She studied the pavement as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. "Let me go, Leon. Just do it. It's for your own good."

And that is when he pulled her back, for once not letting her slip away like liquid from his fingers. "I can't…"

"Then you are a fool."  
He smiled at her, the half curl of his lips that was genuine, sad, and nostalgic. "I'm wearing this, aren't I?"

"Touché. You should let me go so you can leave, Cagney."

Leon took her hand, pressing his lips to the palm and smirking. "I'm your escort for the evening, remember?"

How could she forget? Her mission was a failure, and now she didn't quite know what to do. Ada holstered the gun to her thigh, and thought.

'Seize the night for what it's worth.'

Leon had drifted away from her, examining the shitty excuse of a car. He had opened the door, slipped into it, and reclined in the seat. "You didn't want to blow up your own car, so they gave you this piece of scrap? It doesn't suit you."

She trailed behind him, leaning on the car frame. "Nor does failure."

Ada was not at all pleased, her posture suggesting physical and mental discomfort all the same. Leon Scott Kennedy had effectively defeated her, and she could blame no one but herself. Using her sexuality for mission success was typical, powerful, and something she had done many times, so it was no surprise, that when she went to trade her body off to Leon, she expected nothing other than success. She had her success last time, but she also sealed her defeat. This attachment, this complex and accidental bond from eight years ago had persisted. That night in the hotel, she kissed a man with the intent to steal from him, and instead lost something of her own. Because of that one act, she couldn't kill him like any other man. He wasn't any other man, he was the man in the gangster outfit before her, and he was the man that was staring up at her with those tired blue eyes.

It was her turn to stop him before he spoke, her warm lips encapsulating his own aggressively. So he wanted this so badly? So he thought he was in control of the situation? She parted her lips, pressing her sweating body further into the car, further into him.

So this was it?

Why was she doing this?

Leon allowed her to push him back against the seat, compliant and willing when she straddled his lap. There wasn't much room in the damn car, much less in the front seat of the damn car, but it was good enough in this particular position.

Ada finally pulled away, her red lips moist and matching the warm glow on her cheeks. Leon took her retreat to advance, hands weaving around her waist to pull her close, kissing her shoulder, kissing her neck, sucking the faint pulse, licking the salty sweat away. She shifted her shoulders, shedding the straps of her dress.

"-you plan on keeping me company… ?"

He said it with disbelief, and it became clear from his tone that he thought her to run as soon as possible.

"Leon, just shut up and kiss me before I decide that shooting you might be a better alternative." she snapped, and he was all too compliant. Ada's lips were thick with saliva, sweat, and tasted like lipstick, and the concoction of flavor was one he could only describe as being **her**. He kissed her, kissed her with a fiery, urgent set of lips that moved and slithered over her mouth expertly. Leon was licking, sucking, doing absolutely anything and everything to just not break contact with her mouth for the longest time, until she couldn't keep her beautiful, deadly eyes open and eventually just shut them altogether.

She couldn't keep up with the façade of being computerized around him. He saw her weakness of humanity, even if she hid it deep. Leon broke the kiss to pant for whatever air he could take in on such a hot night while her bare shoulder became a cradle for his wet head. She closed the car door with the closest hand, as discretely as she could.

Leon was smiling into her skin, his hat falling to the floor as the car light faded "I- think you should be illegal in all fifty states…"

She couldn't help but regain that familiar cocky smirk, turning her head to inhale the clean scent of his hair and let him feel the expression she wore on her lips like he was feeling the bunched and wrinkled fabric of her dress.

"Then you'd be a criminal, Agent Kennedy."

Her purr was permission enough to let his hands wander over the curves of her sides, feeling every year put into this gorgeous body and memorizing its shape. She was thin, she was uncannily strong, she was beautiful. Ada was a name of regality, and though he had a suspicion that it was not, in fact, her real name, every single aspect of this woman, whether her façade, her body, or her mind, suited the name.

Drinking her scent, he kissed the line of her collarbone, confused as to how she managed to not accumulate many scars over the years, answering his own question within the mull. She kept **all **of her tools in perfect, or near perfect condition.

"I'm already a criminal for you. And sometimes, it feels-" he paused in his muttered words to give her lips a chaste kiss, "-really damn good to play the bad guy for once." And there wasn't any lie in his voice.

The confession should have scared her, and she really shouldn't have smiled at that, and she really should've thought about how pissed off her employer would be for this, but then again there were a lot of things she should've done and didn't give a damn about doing the opposite. Why should she give a damn that she was making out with the opposing force in a shitty car?

'Keep your friends close, and enemies in your bed.'

"C'est la vie." she whispered, as if it was some kind of dirty secret. The woman slipped her arms out of the thin loose straps, and shook her head. Leon quirked a brow in the dark, for the minimal light they had didn't really expound on her expression.

Ada gave a floaty sight, shifting her weight pointedly and gripping the sides of his face. "Get the guise off, bad boy."

Her fingers were faster than his, though she commanded him. He let the trench coat pool at his sides without a fight, and after the third button of the dress shirt, he gave up on trying to keep up with her deft fingers. Besides, she was seemingly taking a great pleasure in undressing him, for he could feel the mischievous curve of her lips as she nipped a trail down his neck.

The red tie he undid himself, throwing it somewhere (possibly out the half-open window) into the dark, and let Ada curl her knees at his sides, fingers exploring the indents of every fine tuned muscle he had. Leon had the godsend of being muscular without appearing overbuilt. He was noticeably pale, though she definitely knew he had spent more than his fair share of hours in the sun, but the lack of pigment in his skin did absolutely nothing to lower his attractiveness. Not to her, at least. In Raccoon, he had more color in his cheeks, but afterwards, his physical appearance became something of a memoir to the disaster. He almost looked a little bit sick, with the ghastly bags under his eyes and the noticeable sharpness of his face, but the thought remained that no one survived Raccoon without being infected with something.

"Leon…"

She was remembering again, touching the circular scar on his shoulder that refused to disappear, and he pulled her hand away, kissing the fingers as he held them, returning her to the present with a forgiveness for the past. He pressed kisses, light kisses, down that arm as he held her hand, guiding her to lean in to his face. For once, Ada was completely submissive in a sexual situation.

She didn't stop him when he untied the lace at her back, loosening the entire article and letting it drop into a pool of red around her waist. She let a shaky, long sigh escape her throat as he pulled her sweaty body to his, heat pressing inside and outside. Ada blinked the humidity from her lashes and closed her eyes to the dark, feeling his gun-torn hands as they took in the muscle of her catlike back. Of course, the sensation of her breasts against him was enough to get a muted noise of contemplation from his throat. Ada pushed against the hardening region of his pants and felt him twitch under her.

"I… give you credit for your restraint."

"…the only reason for it, is because you're sitting on me."

To which she let a true laugh run through her, and he let a sound of annoyance express his discomfort at the tremors running through her and making their way to his trapped pants. She let the urge to exploit it slip away, and instead, leaned away, half standing. The dress fell off, and she didn't care, slithering through the small opening in the front seats, to crawl animalisticly to the back wearing nothing but a pair of frilly black panties.  
Leon stared at her dimly lit silhouette, and simply could not undo the button of his pants fast enough. She laughed at him again, but softly, her body absorbing the humidity and the heat, but not coming anywhere close to the temperature of arousal beneath the only piece of clothing she was wearing. He was good at hiding most of his wants and needs, but she was better.

Leon joined her, leaving all clothes behind, and she pinned him against the plastic frame, any sort of restraint fleeing her when she bit his neck and whined, grinding into the man's erection so viciously that he hissed, his face contorting in this painfully foreword need.

"-God, sweetheart! Just-take them off!"

But the beautiful, lustful, pining woman would not, for her hands were creeping up his back, and showed no intention of moving.

"-high maintenance."

She growled softly as if to say "duh, it's **me**.", and he hooked his fingers over the overly designed lace, pulling the loops off her legs in turn, and dropping the garment to hold her hips steadily. She pulled away from nursing her love bite, just to look at the relative calm before the storm and he never looked so bloody handsome as he did pinned against the inside of a car wall.

"…You're my criminal… never ever get caught."

He gave his half smile that she knew all too well. "I'd say something back… but I can't think of any words when you-" he was cut off, because every inch of his painful arousal was engulfed in a wet, hot sensation. She dug her nails into his back as she pushed the man past the ring of muscle, past the point of no return, and he hissed her name, holding those smooth hips. "-do-…that-…"

She wasted no time, for they had absolutely no time to waste, pushing herself upright, and causing a spark that made them both twitch.

Ada lifted her hips slightly, testing the waters, and Leon growled. Point taken.  
"…let me, Ada."  
Her body was bending to the things he didn't say. Her thighs curled around his back, and he pressed her against the soft felt of the seats. He was not after domination, he was not after possession… He was after her **affection**. Leon grabbed at her sweaty shoulders, his sticky bangs making vision near impossible in this light, but did it matter?

He rolled his hips and received an "mmm" of approval. Ada closed her eyes, focusing on every other sense. She smelled nothing but him, his masculine, salty scent, mixed with the scent of some sort of gel. She tasted his lips, his sweat. She heard his pants, his restrained grunts and murmurs of her name. She felt every single part of him, from his muscles, to the bit of hair on his chest, to the sweat that rolled off of his body onto her stomach. She saw nothing but goddamn Leon, even when it was pitch black.

And he kept his eyes open, for fear that she would vanish with every movement of his body.

_ Fire kisses, wet love, fire insides, weeping down her thighs._

And it was eight years of some kind of unspeakable bond that made her **finally **cry his name, as not a spy, not an enemy, but as a woman, as herself. And it was eight years, and he still couldn't believe he heard it over the mutualistic, fantastic climax. He tried not to collapse on her, but it was inevitable, and he tried damn hard to bite his tongue. To not say those three words would be the greatest gift to her. In the end, when it was all over, she still had her job, and he still had his. No matter what… he couldn't say them first… he couldn't.

He didn't know how long they lied there, just knew that it was long enough for her to fall asleep. He knew she wouldn't have wanted to do something like that. She probably didn't ever fall asleep after sex to keep herself in a sense of security, but she did now. She slept, and he didn't want to move from her, but again… he had a job.

So he just stared at this beautiful, beautiful woman, drinking in the image that was sure to haunt every dream and day of his life, and he buried his face into her shoulder, murmuring to the night a confession to damn himself.

"God… I love you… I'm in _love _with you, Ada."

She didn't stir.

-

She woke up with the sense of misplacement. A cheap hotel room with mismatched styles of furniture and wallpaper was her surrounding, and a black trench coat was her bedcover. She sat up, rubbing her pounding head in an attempt to quell the ache under the skin, and looked at the wall.

For the third time, the roles were reversed, and Leon Kennedy had been the one to leave. One year ago, she would have simply walked away. Two years ago, she would have chided herself for pressing her forehead to the fabric of the coat. Eight years ago, she wouldn't have dreamt that she could ever cry again, but today…

Today Ada the woman, not Ada the criminal, cried into the fabric of his coat, half laughing at herself, half sobbing. For in the end, she still had her job, and he still had his. And she couldn't say it first…

_No matter what._


	2. Part II

_A/N: I didn't expect this tale to continue, but it did x-x. I'm not sure if I'll write more chapters of this or not, but I kind of want to do one more. I promise, next time I write a oneshot, I won't lie to you guys and update a new chapter XD. This chapter is long winded and there's a lot in it, but I am content with it. I don't think I'll ever be satisfied with it, but I'm content. Enjoy more of this crazy romance, you fic readers you._

_Special Thanks to: Kahoko, MarnaLouw89, LadyAllouette and Ultimolu _

_If it weren't for reviewers like you, this chapter story wouldn't exist, so, thank you so much!_

**-**

**Of Rats, Cats and Guardian Shadows**

_January 22__nd__, 2007_

"Has anyone ever told you that you are gorgeous, sweetheart?"

They have, and she was tired of the redundancy. They all said the same thing time and time again, to the point of that compliment becoming mundane. There wasn't time for worn-out words or this idle sidewinder of a conversation. The bone and skin, of what she could only describe as a balding whiskered rat of a man, was clinging to his greasy jaw, and she found herself momentarily distracted by the… general unkemptness of him.

"Perhaps."

Her vague answer floated on the cloud of smoke peeling from William's thin lips, and he simply sneered. "Isaac Noll is a pricy name, sweetie. Very pricy."

No kidding. Wesker had sent her to kill the poor sucker and eliminate a snarl from his plans. It meant that the guy had done something worthy of Wesker's disapproval. She was not given more than the name and face of her contact, namely William, to branch off of. From what she could tell, this man was an agent, but a mercenary after the sole purpose of Epicureanism. He was a greedy, selfish creature, but he was undoubtedly very intelligent.

"Namely?"

He stroked greasy stubble, catching her eyes with a look she knew to be one of… strange determination.

"Revenge. I want the ring off his left hand." he hissed through a plume of smoke, lips twitching over his chipped teeth. "You're going to get it for me."

She leaned on her elegant palm, calm and under control even when there was smoke stinging her throat and it was dirty and cramped in the local pub. She had nothing remotely against giving a rat a piece of cheese if it meant the goal was accomplished.

"Very well, you have a deal."

William leaned back in his chair, inhaling a great gulp of drug and sighing contently, his black beetle eyes darting to the ceiling. "Ada. That's your name, isn't it?"  
She didn't give the man the satisfaction of the appropriate reaction, instead quirking her brow at the name as if it was alien to her. Internally, she was calculating, wary at how the hell he could have found that out. She was very select about when she used her name, and very few knew it. William should not have known this name, no matter how talented a creature he was with technology.

"Now-" he began, pausing to extinguish the cigarette and lean over his intertwined knuckles, into the few inches of personal space she wanted to keep to fend off the brunt of the tobacco stench. "-you're a pretty penny sweetheart, I can see why that… what was his name-?"

She was tensing up, clenching the fabric of her black strapless dress under the table to the point where she could feel them turning white. William bit his chapped lips, chewing on the cracking skin and "hmming". He was toying with her, surely!

"Ah yes. That government agent, Leon."

And then there was an invisible gun to her head. Ada fought the panic and pain valiantly, pushing her expression to a cold neutral when her hand was grasping the gun holstered at her thigh. She never in her life wanted to kill someone so terribly as she did now.

"What of him?"

William smiled a vampire grin, an evil, lecherous thing. He knew he struck a nerve from the way her jaw clenched, biting what was sure to be a snappy response.

"I can't imagine your boss would be too thrilled if he knew what I knew. So… I'll make you a… proposition."

He licked those ugly, chapped lips again, and she restrained herself with iron manacles, wanting to blow a hole right through this bastard's oily brain. He had the information she absolutely needed, and blackmail…

"Tell me what you know and I'll think about your proposition." she replied mechanically, without the hiss of absolute rage that was threatening to burst through her hands and pull the trigger.

William plucked a box of cigarettes out of his jeans, flicking one of the toxic sticks out and readying his lighter with a flick. He gave her quite a few moments to itch with killer instinct, to ruminate in the feeling of being cornered, and Ada shifted out of irritation, finally deciding to let her deadly eyes narrow in anger. How could he have found out? Was he bluffing? Leon… god damn it…

"…Hm. I know that you didn't follow through with the fireworks, so instead you decided to make sparks of your own. Does he get you off well enough to jeopardize the mission?"

Ada didn't even try to hide the fury, ripping the gun from her holster and jamming it into the man's kneecap. The tabletop didn't exactly conceal her weapon, but she didn't damn care. William flinched, inhaling so much smoke with a gasp, that he started hacking and coughing dryly. She set her jaw, finger craving the feeling of recoil after a gunshot.

"What do you want?"

"Ahhggg- put it away!"

He wasn't answering the damn question, and it looked like the suddenly petrified grease ball wasn't going to unless the gun went away. There wasn't much of anyone in this sorry place, so only a few heads turned at the man's outburst.

"Tell me what the hell you want." she hissed again, reluctantly lowering her bloodthirsty pistol. This guy was a coward. He was an intelligent bastard with absolutely no balls. William clung to his cigarette, gritting yellow teeth and glaring at her. She glared back, her own hateful eyes accentuated by the dark makeup she had plastered on for this occasion. When William had taken a few drags of his cigarette, he finally sighed deeply, rolling those dry lips together in preparation for the demands.

"I want that virus data he carries around with him. It's a little disc in a pouch. It's worth millions, and I want it. You get it for me, and I'll give you the camera footage of your little escapade, and we won't talk again. If you put that damn gun at me again, I'll ruin everything for you. Understand?"

He had camera footage of that night… but how? What camera system was functional? Either way, she didn't have a choice. Wesker did not say anything about the viral research, or whether or not she was to do more than assassinate her target. This was not going against his wishes, it was jeopardizing her own existence. Ada glared at that hideous rat, and nodded.

"Fine."

"Here, two days, same time, bring the disc. Everything you need to know is on this paper."

Grabbing the slightly crinkled piece of paper, Ada rose from her seat, tucking the tiny thing under the protected base of her foot. She didn't look back as she tore out of there at a brisk pace, her heels clicking violently on the worn wooden floor. William just smiled.

Ada marched out the door, despite the raging storm outside. It was a little rain, and she was positively burning with unmatched ferocity. The streets of the little town bared absolutely no one tonight, for tonight the rain swept both people and cars off the road. Ada walked alone, drenching from the rain and not particularly caring that yet another dress was victim of disaster.

How many blocks did she walk out of sheer anger? She couldn't say. Street after street couldn't quell the rotting, disgusting feeling in her gut. Not only was she caught in the act, privacy violated, but Leon… god… if the government ever found out about the incident… it would be considered treason. He could be in terrible danger. It had been months now, and the haunts never ceased. Now, she was whirling through the night, remembering it like a play by play, and getting more and more ill the more she thought.

Rain had inundated her dress to maximum liquid capacity, and it hung sadly on her stomach. Here she was, with her ghosts, feeling ever more the loss and the want that she really tried to push away on a daily basis. Something snapped. Like a frail twig it just splintered in the middle and cracked in half. Ada ran over the sidewalk, sprinted through the freezing rainstorm until everything became a blur, running and running all the way back to her hotel room, running through the door and ignoring the frightened looks of the night shift. She ran into the elevator, grabbing the handrail with every ounce of life she had as the doors closed and left her alone. She felt like she was choking on dirty river water as she huffed for breath, trembling from the freezing cold.

It felt… almost nightmarish to walk to her room, open the door, and see herself in the bathroom mirror. The makeup was all smeared, almost nonexistent, and her true face was pale and naked without it. Ada leaned against the sink, screaming an expletive and slamming her fists on the porcelain. She kicked her shoes off, watching the paper flit out of it's shelter and rest on the tiled floor.

She was caught and paying for her fatal mistake… Leon.

-

_January 23rd, 2007_

The words fantasy authors use to describe the woods, namely "surreal, beautiful, or elegant", were not words she would use. This forest was to her, "overgrown, dirty, and annoyingly constraining." She was used to rugged terrain, but this forest in the middle of nowhere was ridiculous. It wasn't a long drive to get here, only about an hour, and the fact that there was an old Umbrella Lab somewhere in this place, was a very disturbing thought. Umbrella sowed its seeds sporadically, randomly, and every seed sown was a threat to the free world. This lab was a small one, one that simply researched plant viruses, or so it was recorded. Being a spy in her thirties, she wasn't prone to believe Umbrella's records.

She moved quickly, and less quietly than she would have liked, but such was the nature of the forest to be full of sounds. For this mission, she did not take a dress, finding the thought of the fabric getting caught on branches more than she could bear. No, instead she brought the black bullet vest and pants she had worn in Spain, the military style suit given to her by the Organization rather than Wesker. The vest cut to the very top of her stomach, and the pants covered the bare top of her hips, but it was comfortable enough.

She jumped over a large decaying root, rushing over dried leaves and slipping under the shade of a great tree. The lab was close, Isaac Noll was close, and zero hour was fast approaching for one poor Umbrella Researcher. There was no other option but to eliminate him.

The ricochet of a gunshot echoed from tree to tree, and her automatic reaction was to press back against the bark, gun drawn and eyes darting every which way. It came from…

"D-Da-DAMN YOU! Y-YOU CAN'T K-K-CATCH ME!"

She dashed in the direction of the voice, bypassing trees, running and running until her feet met the edge of a thin, wooden bridge. She tapped her feet on the polished wood, eyeing how it wasn't much bigger than her planted feet. Below was the river that the nearby town was christened after, raging and swelling in a mess of white foam. Fifteen feet below was a painful landing, and this bridge had nothing but rope for guide rails.

"AHAHA- EAT THIS YOU-… Wha-?!"

Ada rose her armed hand, firmly planting her feet on the bridge as a pale creature skittered out of the forest like a cockroach racing from the light. The man was dressed in head to toe in formal wear, a business suit torn by the claws of the forest. He skittered back a few steps, eyes wide and disbelieving.

"You better not move, handsome. I wouldn't want to play rough."

The rolling tongue came easier than she thought, and he snarled at her, raising his shaking hands to aim his own weapon at her. A machine gun for a man who obviously never handled one in his life, fantastic. His fingers were shaking, his entire body language was screaming "pursued", and now she was in the way. Shuffling in the trees caused this man, who she derived to be Isaac Noll from his stained nametag, to do a pivot.

"Freeze and throw down the weapon!"

She was about to at the voice. All at one, so much hit her that she lowered her weapon slightly. She was hanging off the edge of a metal bridge in Raccoon City, she was fighting for dominance in a cheap motel bed, she was falling asleep under his body…

Past the obstacle in between them, she saw him, Leon, and he saw her. His crystal blue eyes widened, as if he had seen a ghost, but he didn't move from his position. Talk later, deal with the machine gun in his face now.

Isaac hissed, his teeth bared like a cornered dog, twisting his head this way and that, even down to the chaos below.

Ada tensed, every muscle ready for the next move, and Leon met her eye, glaring. He disapproved of whatever she was planning. Isaac had whirled to Leon, and she rushed in that second, leaping into the air. Three things happened simultaneously. One, Isaac chose that moment to turn to her, screaming in surprise. Two, there was a bloody spray as a bullet sunk into her thigh. Ada yowled like an injured cat, and her kick connected awkwardly into Isaac's neck. Thirdly, Isaac swooned, bucking over the rope of the rail, his weight catching her and sending them both plummeting off the edge.

She looked skyward, in pain and eyes watering, reaching up for a hand that was too far away by now.

"ADA!"

There were no words to describe the sight of her fall, a blood ribbon weeping from her thigh, her gorgeous brown eyes screaming. He never was compelled to freefall, but now, all that mattered was this beautiful woman. He jumped.

-

It was strangely warm here. Was this a dream? Was it another of those kind of dreams? Ada's eyes flickered open, blinking rapidly to take in nothing but a strange orange glow upon a floor of dirt and rock.

"Don't even think about moving. You're hurt… I need to get you to a doctor in the morning."

The voice felt hot on her neck, making her senses return all too suddenly. Pain shot from her leg to her head, and all she could do to react was choke on a soft gasp.

Strong arms pulled her close, and Ada curled in on herself.

"Leon-I-"

"Ada…Shhh. Just… Just stay still."

He had stripped her, covered her in a very warm blanket and set her on a sleeping mat, and from what she could tell without looking, dressed her leg in a mess of bandages, medicine, and cloth. She didn't move, just trying to push past the pain to comprehend the situation. It was night time, so she must have passed out. What happened then? What of Isaac Noll?

"…Isaac." she sighed, letting her body relax under his touch. Leon had crawled under the blanket with her, changed into a black shirt and a pair of dark sports shorts and fulfilling his duty as provider and protector by curling around her, sharing his body heat.

"He didn't survive the fall. Hit his head on a rock and died instantly. You were after the virus data too… weren't you?"

Wispy strands of honey blonde tickled her shoulders as she was silent, with only the crackling of the fire behind them and the steady hiss of the wind to fill the void. What could she say? The thing she didn't want to say was the thing that popped into her brain. She couldn't tell the truth, no matter how much she wanted to vent out her frustrations and turmoil to him.

"Yes."

He ran his fingers through her damp hair gently as an apology, and she sighed shakily, closing her blurry vision.

"I can't go to the hospital, Leon. You know that." she chided, her words chipped and malformed by the horrible sting in her leg. The bastard had hit her in the muscle of her left thigh. It wasn't lethal, but it was incredibly difficult and painful to move at all. No backflips or running for a while, now.

"I know. You have to get proper medical treatment, though. I can't fix you up, but I know someone who can. You have to come with me tomorrow sweetheart."

Leon pressed a quiet, soft kiss to her shoulder, a period for his sentence. Leon, the bleeding heart he was, hadn't any idea of the consequences should she abscond for tomorrow. Ada shifted, shaking her head in a firm "no", though her leg screamed otherwise.

" I have a rendezvous tomorrow with a contact. I can't not be there, or else-"

"I'll come with you. Face it, you can't walk well with that wound, and you'll be in trouble if something goes badly."  
Betraying his own country for her again... He really was her criminal. His offer was so tempting, like a mirage of water in the desert heat, but… it was so perilous. She would have to take precautions, and reroute the mission, and…

"Leon if you come with me, if I actually agreed to this, it would be-"

"Dangerous, I know. I never cared about the peril level before, if you don't recall."

She took it upon herself to turn her head far enough to see his face. "Stop finishing my sentences when I'm trying to talk you out of something."

He smiled at that, tired blue eyes sparkling in the fire light. "Sorry. I'm not being talked out of this. Are you going to come with me willingly, or do I have to cuff you?"

"And if I said I'd willingly do both?" Ada smiled at him in that mischievous way of hers, pain tinted voice aside.

He blinked at that in surprise, but didn't break the smile, instead leaning over to peck her lips sweetly. "I'll have to take a rain check on that one. That was horrible." -yet he would be lying by claiming the image was slightly more than appealing.

"It's not any less horrible than you, Capone."

"Sorry if I didn't have time to change after the costume party."

"Partying on a mission, Agent Kennedy?"

Leon chuckled. "You know it. I'm a monster on the dance floor."

She attempted to picture it, and absolutely couldn't, making the notion completely hilarious. Leon, a dancer. Nah, it couldn't be. He was more of a rugged boy scout than a party boy. Ada pressed her cheek on the sleeping mat, looking skyward as a comfortable silence coddled her.

The sky was cloudy and black, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was an omen, a sign of bad things to come. She was never a superstitious person, but it seemed like the constant cycle of meeting Leon, and then something going wrong was too permanent to possibly be broken. The crackling of the fire behind her was lazy and safe, and there was a feeling of overwhelming lethargy that hit her alongside the consistent pain. She refused to sleep just yet.

"You were after Isaac too?"

He nodded into her hair, bowing his head away from the black wisps to talk. "Yeah. I was ordered to apprehend him, and secure a disc of viral data. I can't exactly apprehend a corpse, but I did get the data."

She didn't say anything. She wasn't going to ask for the data from him. She was going to take the long way around. He didn't need to know of William's blackmail, and he wasn't going to find out.

"I brought the body over, though. I was ordered to leave it here."

"Does the body have a ring on it?"

She felt him shift, and then sit up. "Yeah. Why?"

"Can you get it for me? I need it."

His internal gears were shifting, and from his tone, she could hear a bit of suspicion. Nevertheless, the man got up, trekking somewhere out of her peripheral vision. He actually went to get the ring. Again, she realized how much of a bad influence on him she was. Leon returned, his shadow draping over her like a protective shell, and he sat before her eyes, fiddling with a beautiful golden ring. It was a band of shining metal, adorned with diamonds radiating from the center like a flower's petals. It was a stunning piece of jewelry, and she couldn't help but admire it. Her eye for beauty was something of a weakness, of course.

Leon squinted, holding the band between his fingers and rubbing the inside.

"'To my daughter in law, Amelia. May you live as beautifully as a flower.' Well… this is certainly not his. He didn't have a sister… or a wife… I wonder who Amelia is."

He placed the ring upon the mat before her, and she sighed. "An unfortunate victim of his research, in all likelihood."

"Probably." He knelt to her level, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Go to sleep, alright? I'll follow your directions tomorrow."

She couldn't argue with him. She was tired, and in pain, and her eyes closed themselves at his command.

"You're too kind to me."

"Not kind enough. I won't leave like last time."

"…Thank you."

-

_January 24th, 2007_

Leon had taken her to the government issued car, wrapped her up tightly in the blanket lie a child (while she protested), and set her up in the back seat so she could sleep a bit. He asked her where she was staying, and that was all. Leon did not change out from the shorts and shirt, just threw some shoes on after he parked, getting out to carry Ada, wrapped in a blanket bundle (while she weakly argued), up to her room. The lobby staff was once more distracted by the return of the woman in room 103, but strange things like this were not at all uncommon for a hotel so close to a bar and a nightclub, so nobody thought too much of it. In her room, she requested him to test how badly she was hurt, by allowing her to lean on him, and attempt to stand. She hissed and winced, but with his help, she limped across the room. It wouldn't inhibit her forever.

Right now, her pride was all but forgotten for the sake of functioning. Leon had suggested that they both take showers, and she couldn't help but agree on one condition.

"Come with me…?"

His eyes narrowed and he turned his head away, knowing full well that it was both a better idea, and a worse one. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, rubbing the sunken lids of her eyes miserably. She must have looked awful without her daily makeup and grooming, much less a rather unattractive wrap around her leg. Leon shook his head, and smiled softly. "I can't say no when you look at me like that."

And he picked her up like a new bride, careful not to hurt her more. Ada wasn't quite sure what to think about how they were acting. They were being too friendly, too much like people who cared. She asked herself if this happened to him, would she do the same thing? Ada looked up at him as he set her on the sink, tapping her knee and unraveling the bloody bandages from it. She winced, gripping the porcelin counter for support, and he leaned in and kissed her forehead for an apology. "I'm sorry. I know it hurts. Bullets hurt."

Yeah. She would. He was worth her caring, her traitorous nature to Wesker, and her welfare. The epiphany made her coffee- colored eyes widen in disbelief. Something like this was alien, unexpected. Leon came before the mission. Leon was more important than her. She, the spy infamous for her robotic approach, was first and foremost a human for Leon. She was his spy, he was her criminal.

"Leon-… I have to talk to you, after my mission is complete. I have something to say. I can't say it now."

He studied her face as it fell, looking at the damage done to her body. The hole was red, agitated, and crusted with blood, still bleeding out, but not as much as before. It was an ugly thing, nor bigger than a coin, but permanent and scarring. She touched the circular edge, eyes lost in thought.

He kissed her again, a soft peck. "I'll be there to hear it. You know I will. Come on, we have to get clean."

Leon adjusted the water to suit her taste. She liked hot showers, he realized this after she had robbed him the last time. She took a shower, and there was steam sticking on the mirror.

"Observant as always.'

She got in with his help, leaning against the wall for support, and watching him curiously as he undressed, pulling the curtain over the scene to join her. It had been a while since that last time, but she was still as beautiful as he remembered, even more so in the light. Ada's skin had paled from lack of blood, but she was still gorgeous.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are gorgeous?"

From his lips, she didn't mind the redundancy. She smiled, at him, eyeing his own well-chiseled muscles. "Not to my real face."

If only her leg didn't sting like hell under the water… Then she would have done far more than just leaning against the wall while he massaged some cheap hotel soap over her skin, looking a bit solemn, but for the most part, calm.

"Why did you become a spy?" he murmured, softly ghosting the wound with the soapy rag, making her flinch.

It was a strange, spontaneous question (or maybe not so odd or random as it seemed at first), and Ada looked at him oddly, deciding whether it was a valid, serious question. It was.

"For the thrill… and the dresses." she said, the sting of soap in an open wound chipping the syllables. He wasn't only partially satisfied with the answer, brushing wet bangs away from his eyes to look more inquiring than he already did.

"Why did you become a government agent?"

Leon immediately looked downcast, stormy and brooding over something "The government took Sherry. They were going to hurt her unless I worked for them. And then… she was kidnapped, and they had no more blackmail on me, but I continued to work for them. I'm still trying to find out what happened, if there's a possibility that she would be alive. I didn't have a choice but to work for them. No little girl should be harmed on my account."

His explanation made her a bit ill. Sherry Birkin, the G-Virus carrier, was worth millions of dollars on the Black Market. No doubt Wesker would know something of the affair. So, it was for Sherry that he kept going. It was to protect and serve a little girl. He really was like a guardian shadow… Not exactly an angel, but a guardian who fought undead, destroyed monsters, and took bullets when no one else would. Leon was so… good…

He took in her silence, and stood from cleaning the wound. "I feel like… you were the same way. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you know how it feels, don't you?"

She was pinned, and powerless. Her eyes drifted shut, hiding the clouds threatening to burst. He called the shot, and picked correctly, and she was quiet.

"Just… stop talking and kiss me…"

So he did. He kissed her within an inch of her life, and she let him, fighting his tongue with her own until she couldn't stand the lack of air, pulling away to stare at the ceiling, hands entwined in his blonde hair.

"I'm only injured in my leg. Please, Leon…"

She was asking him to do it again, to help chase away whatever he had brought up to her, to satisfy whatever motivated her desires.

"Ada.. I don't want to hurt you."

Though he so wanted to. He wanted to feel her skin again, feel every inch of this beautiful woman. Ada hated the words "make love". She never said those words, because it never worked that way. This was sex, not love. It was supposed to be raw, animal emotion, but she refused to deny herself the want to feel what "making love" in actuality was.

"Then don't… I want you to do this Leon, regardless of my injury. Here, now. I've missed you."

Her pressure was ridiculously constricting. Her admitted weaknesses, her every breath was enticing. He was weak…

"Ada…"

"Please…?"

He buried his face into her neck, kissing the sides gently. "If you hurt yourself, I'm going to put you in time out."

She tilted her head to the side, smiling. "Fair enough."

-

Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep.

"-nooo."

Beep…

Ada smacked the alarm and Leon moaned. It was too troublesome to get up at nine o' clock… at night… Damn.

"-five more minutes…"

Ada sat up, grabbed her pillow, and gave Leon a good smack across the back of the head. "Get up, handsome. We've got to go."

Leon grunted and lifted his head to look at her, and she pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. "I'm sorry, we can't sleep in."

He sighed and nodded in agreement. After this morning, he was willing to sleep until tomorrow… Three rounds, three precious times in a row. It was almost too much to absorb. She was so willing…

"Ada… can I ask you a question?"

She was trying to get out of the bed, with annoying difficulty. Her leg was stiff, rebound, and not cooperating, it seemed. "What kind of question?"

"The kind that's probably in your head too." Leon slipped out of bed, not bothering to put his clothes on to come to her side, helping the woman to her feet. "What are we?"

Well, it _was _inevitable, but she was not prepared to answer it. "…If I find that out, you'll be the first to know."

He wasn't agreeing to it completely, but it was enough of an answer to curb a retort. Leon plucked his clothing off the bathroom floor, and she followed the wall to her suitcase (which was thankfully placed upon a table within her reach). Ada plucked out the dress without a second thought. It was a skinny strapped black number with a very long slitted skirt and a v-neck. It was a death dress, which was fitting for the moment. Her holster and gun were already in the car. Normally, she would have cleaned up the room a little bit, but the sad fact was, she really couldn't move fast enough to get anything done. Ada settled for a pair of black flats, black gloves and the dress, dressing herself painfully slowly.

"Why black?" he said as she adjusted the straps.

"Blending in with the nightlife."

Ada gathered the remnants of her possessions, while he attempted to reason what on Earth she was planning.

"What should I do?"

She looked at her appearance in the mirror, rummaging through her possessions and grabbing her fire red lipstick and red eyeshadow to apply it. "You want me to go to a medic, and I'll go. I don't feel well, and my leg is hurting terribly, so I'll go. You have to wait until I complete my mission, and then pick me up where I tell you to, when I tell you to. I have to tell Wesker something to get him off my back before then. Do you understand?"

He nodded loosely, taking it upon himself to inspect the room and make the bed. Ada zipped the suitcase up, putting her cardkey upon the counter and looking at her companion.

"Come on handsome, let's get out of here."

Leon gave her the trademark look of worry and yet determination that he wore too often for her, which she noted, but ignored. He knew she was going to do something risky. The pair walked out with strange dignity, and for once, Ada Wong didn't distract the poor guy at the desk (who by this point in time had his own personal theory about her soap opera of an adventure).

Both were quiet as Leon drove down the streets, bypassing people in the January chill, buildings with names she wouldn't remember, and yet creating a memory all the same. This, she would log away as the calm before the storm. Ada tightened the strap of her thigh holster onto her good leg, making quite certain she could reach her gun, and Leon pulled to the curb, parking.

He didn't want to let her out of the car, much less into a dingy pub. Those blue eyes looked at her with every ounce of hope and pleading he could muster "Don't get hurt."

To his concern, she nodded. To his lips, she kissed a promise, and he kissed for good luck.

"I won't."

She slipped to her feet, and with every ounce of control she could draw upon, Ada _walked _straight into that bar, and Leon clenched his eyes shut in silence, pulling away as she directed him to.

"…Be safe."

-

So she was back where it began. Where her mission started, and where it would end. She had no bargaining chip but this ring, but for some reason, this fact did not bother her. Ada sat in the same chair as she had two days prior, the smell of smoke heavy and thick, though William was not yet here. She glanced at the clock, and then at the table, admiring the way the light shimmered off the embedded jewels. It might have been a personal token for him, perhaps?

"That is what I wanted. Give it here, beautiful."

His oily voice tainted the air as William crawled into his appointed seat, a freshly lit cigarette between his lips. Ada slipped the ring off her gloved hand, wiping the metal with a small towlette as if to polish the diamonds, before setting it upon the table. "It is a lovely piece."

William grinned like the Cheshire Cat, licking his dry lips and plucking the thing up. He was a greedy fool.

"Now, about this video footage. Do you have it?"

William nodded, eyes still transfixed by the ring. "Oh yes, I do. And the data?"  
"Yes, it is Isaac's."

"Fantastic."

Ada held her hand up to stop his train of thought. "Have any copies been made?"  
"No, no."

He shook his skeletal head, slipping a crude memory stick from his pocket. "Camera footage from the pharmaceutical warehouse. Let me see the data."

Ada reached for her holster, placing a small black pouch upon the table. William unzipped the pouch, fingering for the contents. He would find nothing. Leon had given her the pouch, and she knew what to do.

"So long, bastard."

A steak knife was poised under the table, and she drove it through his stomach without breaking her sultry smile, twisting violently and jerking her hand up. There was a reason that she added gloves to her wardrobe.

William opened his mouth wider than humanly possible, eyes bugging out of his head. He was going to cry out, but she silenced him with a napkin and her hand upon his neck, forcefully "wiping" the scream away as the light left his eyes and he slumped foreward. He would bleed out soon, but he merely looked asleep. Ada left the knife in his gut, sighing and shaking her head, recovering both the pouch, and the memory stick from the table. Her eyes lingered upon the ring for a brief moment, and she smiled, slipping the gloves off daintily and shoving them into her thigh holster. No one noticed anything. There were too few patrons.

She slipped out of there unnoticed, black as the night, limping to the corner. As promised, he was there. Leon opened the door for her and she slipped into the passenger seat.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Let's go see that medic of yours, handsome."

Though she had just murdered someone, and even if Leon was aware of it, she wasn't guilty for killing a rat. Leon sighed out of relief, driving into the night to a destination unknown to her.

"Ada, you worry me."

"Leon-" could she say what she wanted to? "I think I love you."

His face looked like a cartoon right then, lighting up with so much intensity that she blinked a few times. She stared at him intently.

"Ada… I know I love you…"

"…Well… this could pose a few problems." she sighed, pressing her forehead against the glass as the world flashed by.

"Yep." was all that he needed to say.


	3. Part III

_A/N: Good frikkin GOD this is a LONG chapter x-x. I really tried for you guys, and spat out this behemoth. A huge thanks and credit to Marna, for being a great reader and fellow brainstormer. It was her idea for the concept of a shower scene in this chapter. Geeze. Overall, I am thinking that this story will have 7-8 chapters, with this 3-day part taking up three of them. I am so tired now, but here's this horribly taxing and huge chapter. Jesus was this difficult to write XD. Nevertheless, enjoy!_

**Of Love, Loss, and Betrayal**

**-Part One-**

**The Normal Day**

_ "In the assault, I was injured. I will be out of commission for a few days."_

_ He did not like this one bit. Though he always wore a mask of cold and calculated composure, she could tell by the pregnant pause after her words, that Wesker was not pleased with this news. He tilted his head slightly, inspecting her with empty black lenses, and finding her all too suspicious, no doubt. Ada had become hurt before, and sometimes she requested a day for recovery, but never several days. _

_ Wesker was looking her straight in the eyes through the tiny screen. "What happened?" he said, his words all too jabbing. He knew she was up to something, but not what. _

_ "Isaac shot me with a machine gun. A stray bullet hit my thigh. He's dead, and the local government confirmed it."_

_ He did not reply instantaneously, and that was worrisome. _

_ "Why was William found dead?"_

_ She sighed, shaking her head as if he had reminded her of a troublesome pest. "William was a failure. He not only was blatantly vague, but demanded more than his fair share of payment by asking for viral research." She paused. "-not to mention, he was rather rude."_

_ The man did not react at all to her. Not one brow was quirked, nor a lip was curled. "Viral data classified to that area would have ended up in my possession, had William attempted to sell it. Miss Wong, next time you encounter a bargain, you will inform me of it. As it is, I have no further use for William, which is fortunate for you."_

_ Ada pressed her lips into a tight line. If Wesker had known William was seeking the data… what else did he know? The woman waited patiently for her further commands, quiet and intent upon the miniature screen. _

_ "You have three days to catch a plane from Chicago, and follow the flight transfers to Las Vegas, Nevada. I will give you your mission when you arrive at the destination."_

_ She lowered the screen. "And Ada, I won't hesitate to kill you if you become incompetent. Don't fail. It would be a waste of ability."_

_ "Yes… I understand."_

_ The communicator fizzled out, and Ada pressed her head against the back of the seat._

_ Three days?_

_Day Zero_

Doctor Rebecca Chambers was on her lunch break, and without lunch. The skinny woman clad in floral print scrubs and a white overcoat was not exactly having the most stimulating day of her life thus far.

For some reason, nobody got sick on a Saturday Night.

'Must have better things to do.' she thought automatically. "I wonder if anybody's willing to trade me a sandwich for something.."

Her hands ran through the bulk of her short puff of chestnut hair, pulling at the dryness in mild annoyance. It was a dull day. She was about to close her lilly pad-green eyes, finding too much dull and white.

And then as if the fates perceived her bored enough, Leon Scott Kennedy, someone she had not seen in over six months, came rushing into her quiet office at the clinic. She was torn between smacking him, and giving the guy a hug. Then, the look on his face stopped all thoughts of doing much of anything but listening to what he had to say. Dr. Rebecca "Becca" Chambers had met the man at a BSAA meeting exactly one year ago, for which she stood in as spokesperson for T-Virus Vaccination and G-Virus Research. Leon was there on behalf of the government, and he, being a government agent, asked for a full report of research over some coffee. They kept in contact for some time after, phone conversations, e-mail, just… talking. Similar experiences with zombies, knowledge of Las Plagas, and the fact that he shared her taste in old romance movies. They had even gone to a costume party with Claire last year, but midway through it he disappeared on of government escapade of some kind.

Right now, Leon didn't look at all well. He looked…

"Becca… I need you to do something for me."

"What the-… Leon, what's goi-"

He shut the door and she jumped to her feet at the slam.

"Can I trust you?"

"Of-course-!"

He pressed his forehead against the wall, bracing them both…

"I have Ada. Ada Wong… I need help, she's gotten sick. I can't let anyone find out about this."

Rebecca's eyes widened at the name. That woman was as infamous and comparable as Carmen Sandiego in her prime! "Oh-…oh my god Leon… What the hell? Ada Wong? Explain!."

Leon shook his head fiercely, gritting his teeth.

"First we have to get her in here, make sure she's safe, then I'll explain. Can you help me?"

When someone walks into a doctor's office, it is a place of refuge, sanctuary. As a doctor, you are to give treatment regardless of the circumstances. "Wait just a minute Leon! This woman is a spy! A double agent! Even the fact that you even have her here in your custody is treason!"

"I know what she is!" he yelled back, holding his hands before him in hopelessly empty claws. "-but I know what she's not! You have to help her. _Please_."

He was frantic, actually shaking from adrenaline. Rebecca bit her lip, before nodding. It was her duty as a doctor… and it was an emergency… and it was Leon…

"Alright… I'll do it. You have to tell me why, and what happened, though."

He nodded numbly, lips shut for the moment. The small woman straightened her coat, and he dashed out the door without a second thought.

"Eh? Hey!"

She ran after him, dashing through the sterile smelling hallways of the clinic and out the back door. Nevermind the two confused nurses, one secretary, and senile patient that they practically bulldozed over to get there. Leon was a man on a mission, and he sped across the cement walkway to a large black car, government issued no doubt, glancing only once behind him to see that the slightly flustered doctor was running behind him. Rebecca skidded to a stop in her pale flats, looking at the tinted windows of the car as if they would reveal anything.

Leon pulled the hatch, crawling into the second row of seats and motioning her to hurry in (which apparently she didn't do fast enough because the man pulled her in and shut the door quickly.

"Le-"

He put two fingers to his lips, and she fell silent, following his eyes to something she immediately gasped at. "Leon, What happened? Ada, this is **the **Ada."

Rebecca dug her thin fingers over the seat back. **The **Ada Wong was a tall, thin creature, who seemed to have an elegant curve or slant to everything upon her body, and she _could _see everything. The woman had been stripped bare, to let her skin air itself out of a fever. The woman's long fingers were wrapped around the hem of a blanket, clinging to it but not making any movements to cover herself.

"She got shot in the thigh. I think it got infected, but I don't know what to do for her."

"…Mm?"

Rebecca bit her lip as the woman shifted, weakly opening her eyes and looking around.

"It's me. It's okay, she's here to help you. She can get you proper medical care." he murmured, softly, and with a tone that made the young medic look at him critically. There was more to this story and he wasn't telling her. Ada blinked her glassy eyes, sighing and pulling the blanket to her face, not making any such movement to get up. Her skin was too hot, though covered in cold perspiration, everything felt like a delirium, and there was no relief from this constant pain in her muscles, so she pulled her knees further to her chest to alleviate the stress, if only a little.

All her doctor instincts were flashing green for "go", and she knew Leon was probably right. "It does look like a wound infection… Yeah, come on, let's get her inside. I've got some stuff to bring down the fever and we can check the damage to her leg."

Leon didn't reply automatically, taking in her words like a sponge and savoring them. "Becca, thanks… Ada, can you try to climb up here?"

"I'm not crippled." she hissed listlessly back. Ada pressed her palms on the ground, lifting her upper body from it's protective shelter and snagging the blanket at her side. "Who is the little medic?"

Rebecca flushed slightly, and Leon pressed a finger to his temples. "-little? I'm _Doctor _Rebecca Chambers. And you're Ada Wong. I don't even know where to start,"

Ada slipped the blanket over her shoulders like a cowl, nodding hazily. "-Murderer, Seductress, Traitor, Thief, Liar, Cheater, Bitch, Kidnapper and Double Agent. Does that about cover it?" she said, words slowly becoming less distinct amongst an ill slur.

"Regardless of what you did or are, I agreed to help you out, so let's go."

She was no stranger to helping a criminal, after all… Billy was a good guy, who did bad things. Ada Wong was a legend herself, and whenever the woman came onto the government radar, there would be ungodly tales told. With all she had seen in her lifetime, she had no idea if any of them were exaggerated or not… The rumors of her allure were actually true. This woman was absolutely everything that society looked for. She was thin, tall, and her collarbone made a very chiseled and sensual dip in her neck. Apart from a very dark scar on her side, and a thick wrap of white gauze, Ada looked almost as if she had stepped out of a fictional story. Becca closed her eyes, making a mental note to ask the woman how the hell she managed to keep such a body being a field agent.

It was… kind of awkward. Ada seemed to disregard the fact that she was, in fact, naked. Wait… why was she naked in Leon's car. "…Oh Lord." she murmured to herself as Ada delicately crawled over the seat in the middle, the blanket offering just enough coverage to be considered "decent." She curled her knees in and Leon scooted closer, motioning for her to lie against his shoulder.

She couldn't judge this woman, but it seemed that Leon had deemed her well-being to be a priority, so… "…So you two are…" Becca trailed off, not exactly certain what she wanted to ask. There was a multitude of things she could ask, but none of them quite settled on her tongue.

"-Intimate?"

Way to go, doctor. Ada stared ahead into space, and Leon's gaze sharply snapped to the young doctor. It was a legitimate, serious question that she needed to know. Leon nodded, a very slight motion, but she caught it. "Why?"

"I want to make sure she's not suffering from any side effects of that instead of a wound infection. Pregnancy, STDs, the like."

Leon's face seemed to take the semblance of a disbelieving straight line. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, Leon."

Becca shifted her weight, adjusting the sleeves of her white coat and inspecting the face again. "Though I seriously doubt she's pregnant if she's having these kind of symptoms."

"I doubt it too. There's almost no chance of it."

Leon fidgeted uncomfortably, not saying anything while Ada shook her head, shedding the prospect from her mind and pushing it away.

"My organs are unfavorable environments. No possible legacy for me."

Leon and Rebecca exchanged a glance. "Leon, open the door and we'll carry her out."

"Right."

Ada's dreary eyes peered at the younger woman from the safety of her bangs, watching through the lenses of bleary goggles, as if she was deep within a shell of herself, looking out into the distance. Rebecca had asked her if she could shuffle herself to the door, where Leon was waiting, arms waiting to carry her away. So she slowly moved, carefully crawling over the seat, holding the blanket with one hand, and with the other, gripping onto Leon's shoulder.

The man scooped her up without a second thought or a word, one arm hooked around her back, one arm under her legs, hugging her close. "You're too light, you know that?"

Rebecca hopped out after him, having the foresight to pull a bit of blanket like a hood over Ada's head. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping a low profile? Hurry up, let's get inside."

_Day One_

Blink… blink… blink…

"You're awake!"

"Oh my god, we were so worried!"

Ada shielded her eyes at a sudden light, disembodied voices and shadows making the vague thought 'You are dead.' pop into her head. Where was she? What happened? One minute she was huddled in Leon's arms, and the next…?

A familiar set of lips pressed against her cheek and she blinked the offensive light away, shapes and colors reclaiming their rightful place in the surroundings. Where was she? Somewhere were the smell of cinnamon-scented candles was faint, and the sun streamed in from between a set of pale blinds. "Ada, hey… how are you feelin-"

"Shut up and get out of the way! I'm the medic here, not you!"

The disembodied voices jabbered on, and it became apparent that Rebecca Chambers was the shape standing over her. Ada pressed her dry lips together, blinking a few more times before the epiphany hit her like a hammer. "Oh… my head…" Literally like a hammer, hitting her brain. She had passed out… again… Oh for the love of God.

"You're dehydrated and recovering. Here, can you sit up and drink some water for me?"

The woman from before, Rebecca, was hovering over her, out of the doctor's outfit and in a fresh outfit composed of a pale green tank top and black sweatpants. She looked so… strangely young to be who she was. Rebecca Chambers, member of the S.T.A.R.S. Bravo Team. She was involved in the Arklay Incident as a pawn of Wesker's at some point in time.

Ada braced herself against the soft mattress, raising herself from a ridiculous mass of quilts and blankets, and dually noting the fact that she was _still _wearing nothing, and failing at this confusing moment to care. Immediately, Leon was at her side, a cup of water in his hand and looking as disheveled as she had ever seen him. Not even in Spain had his hair been so chaotic and unruly, and now it was all clumped and some of it was sticking up. She would have found it funny if he didn't look like he had been punched in both eyes.

"What happened?"

Rebecca fiddled with something in her hands, producing a compact electric thermometer and tapping her lips. "Open up."

Ada took the tip under her tongue and Leon set the glass down on the nightstand, running a hand wearily through a hopeless mess of hair.

"We got two feet in the door when I realized you passed out. You were burning up, a 105 degree temperature. Becca got something to bring the fever down, and she cleaned out the wound. There was a fragment of the bullet that I missed stuck in there." He lowered his head, and paused for a moment. "She did a full diagnosis, and re-cleaned after she cleaned."

"I was afraid you would boil alive. Good news, though. You are healthy otherwise. You weigh more muscle than fat, and…" The thermometer chirped and Rebecca snatched it out of her mouth. "You only have a fever of 101 degrees now. You need to drink something and rest."

She was processing he information as it came, and she still found it difficult to believe. Ada Wong felled by a fever? It sounded like a sick joke, no pun intended. Her hand automatically went to the glass and without a second thought, she gulped the water down, downing the glass in no time. Leon watched her, his brooding mask claiming his face.

"After that, then what?"

Rebecca took the glass, setting herself down on the mattress and shrugging. "You were out cold, so I offered to take you in until you woke up."

"Why are you doing all this for me?"

Rebecca chuckled as if her unbelieving tone was a joke. "Well. I have a few skeletons in my closet. They're pretty talkative, and they tell me not to think somebody a criminal just because they are declared one. Who knows, really. You could be the next Wesker for all I know… but you could also be a hero. If you don't try, you'll never find out for sure." She held the cup in her hands and sighed, eyes far, far away for a moment. Those skeletons in her closet never left. In fact, they found her every once in a while… "Besides, Leon seems to trust you, enough to make me not trust you two alone, so I seriously doubt the latter."

It was enough to actually draw a very small, very subtle smile from her. "Well, I am known as being a bit of a harlot, but I'll try to keep it in check."

Rebecca pointed at her, mockingly scolding her. "Keep it out of my bed and we'll get along just fine."

"I'm so glad my girls are getting along." Leon chimed in, not exactly able to keep his moody face in light of Ada… being herself and Rebecca being chipper as always.

"Out of curiosity, who was the skeleton?"

Rebecca seemed taken aback by the question, setting the empty cup on the nightstand. "Well… I guess I can tell you. You have to keep my secret if I keep yours."

Well… add to the list of things he really should tell his superiors and wasn't going to… Some secret agent he was turning out to be. "Deal."

Rebecca pulled at something about her neck, and from seemingly out of nowhere, produced a set of army dogtags, hanging around a silver chain. "Billy Coen. Died a while ago, but he's still walking around."

She let the tags dangle in the air, reflecting the newborn light of a sunrise on their sheen. "He wasn't a criminal in the end, just a victim. I just don't think that anyone should be judged by name only."

"Why am I not fired for consorting with you guys?"

Rebecca scoffed and replaced the dogtags around her neck, and Ada just smirked, leaning upon her palm.

"Yeah, and you're one to talk, bringing Carmen San Diego home."

Ada quirked a brow and Leon rolled his eyes. Now **that **was an analogy for the books.

"Either way, Leon, I'm sorry, but you stink. Leave her alone to rest for a little while and take a shower."

Leon wanted to protest, but knew that she was right. A day's worth of alarm and worry had turned him into a sweaty, sticky mess. It had started after the fourth hour in the car. Ada didn't look well, so he stopped at a station and asked if she was alright. She said "fine", but looked slightly pinked and clammy. He had a thermometer in his first aid kit, but when it read "fever", he had nothing to help. They were only an few hours away, thankfully. Rebecca was Ada's savior, and through it, he owed her more than he could repay. Panic set in for him, and Rebecca did her job of friend and doctor and helped a traitor to her own country.

"Rebecca-" Ada started, raising her hand slightly to draw the young lady's attention. "Thank you…"

And the chestnut-haired doctor just smiled and waved her hands at Leon, gesturing for him to shoo off to get cleaned. There was just no way to argue against Rebecca, and Leon hung his head with a dramatic "ugh". "You're welcome, Ada. I'd like to talk to you after he- Will you get out?" She shouted, and Leon rose his hands in the air in exasperation.

"I'm going, I'm going!"

He walked out, shutting the door behind him and breathing deeply, finally in a sense of relief. Ada was alright… Ada was going to be fine. No more bullet, no more sickness, no more panic. "…She really will be the death of me someday." he whispered, with a cracked, bittersweet smile creeping over his face.

Ada watched the door close. Her head felt light, her body was sore and shaky, her stomach was achingly empty, but she had enough of herself collected to feel the loss of his presence. Leon had successfully managed to save her life… twice in one week. Either she was getting rusty, or fate played a strange poker hand.

Rebecca sighed openly, her expression at once becoming troubled and distant. "Did Wesker ever do anything to you? Not sexually, I mean in the genetic sense."

"Why do you think I work for Wesker?"

"Well… for one, Leon told me. And as for the question… It worried me, when you said you had a genetic defect… Wesker has done things in the past, that we previously thought impossible. I was just wondering if he was using you."

Ada leaned upon her palm. "No, It was an inherited defect. Wesker didn't touch me genetically, or sexually, to add. And Leon needs to keep a secret…"

"Well, that's a relief, in both cases. I will not tell anyone, rest assured. I've not told anyone but you two about Billy, and it's been years…" She blinked strangely, remembering something from a far off past, and scrunching her nose at it. "Somehow, I really don't think Wesker ever had a libido."

Ada chuckled at her. Rebecca was musing aloud, and the pitch of her voice made the comment all too funny. It was funny, and also true. The cold, calculating, brilliant Wesker did not at all possess any **visible **signs of a sex drive. However… there were times when he broke his own rules…

"It's not a libido that he has. Wesker is a sadist."

Rebecca flopped on her back into the soft mattress, arms tucked behind her head. "What's it like, working for him?"

Ada looked to the ceiling, at the bland white paint and the simple blades of the dormant ceiling fan. Well… For starters, Wesker was not adverse to personal meetings. She was present during some of the experiments that were almost constantly being run. Training under Wesker was dangerous to the highest degree. He allowed her to train, as long as she trained against his tinkered monstrosities. Her training was nothing more than brutal fighting, sniping, dangerous surprises, and almost always she had come away bleeding from some kind of wound.

"It's… never dull."

Especially because he always had her off somewhere recovering something or killing someone. Her success rate was the reason she was still employed by the man, and the Organization was the reason she couldn't consider leaving him. Dull was one hell of an understatement.

"Hm."

She wasn't satisfied with the answer, but she wasn't expecting more. Rebecca sat herself up, the dawn dancing over her skin. The morning seemed too close to last night, as it always did when there was a patient in need. "So, you have a few options. I have to go to the store for… well… pretty much everything. You can either sleep, or take a shower, or drink more water. If you take a shower, just don't aggravate your leg- and no showering together."

"Rules, rules."

Why were they even bothered with, really? Rebecca left for the day, and Ada got up to play. Her muscles were sore and latent, and the mere action of standing was filled with shakes, pops, and all ungodly sorts of sounds, and she had to steady herself on the nightstand for a moment. "She can't expect me to follow such a rule, when I'm already halfway there."

Ada reached for the sky, her wrists curling and weaving invisible thread, letting that thread bleed energy into her tired veins. The dawn light was kind to her, an artist that colored her bare skin gold with gentle strokes of a brush. Though it was positively frigid outside the nest of quilts, she was thankful they didn't dress her. Muscles flexed and stretched as Ada woke her system, wary of the dull throb in her thigh. Rebecca had outdone herself in the neatness of the wrapping. It was white, pristine, layered, and not too tight as to cut off her circulation. The woman ran her fingers over the ring of medical bandages, shaking her head. That made another scar to the collection, and another place to clog with makeup to hide the damaged skin.

Leaning back, the tired woman took the moment to examine the room. Though the morning light wasn't the best illuminator, it was enough to see that Rebecca was someone who lived cheaply despite having money. Her room was small and quaint, a dresser, a mirror, two tiny hanging bookshelves, and a walk out balcony guarded by a sliding glass door. In one corner was a mess of cords to various electronics, in the other, a nightlight in the shape of a bluebird. This room, as all bedrooms usually were, was furnished with comfort and security in mind, and certainly, it did it's job.

Ada pushed upon the wood of the door with her palms, weak and dizzy and feeling horribly stiff. The bathroom was literally right around the corner from Rebecca's bedroom, the sound of running water the first thing to tip her off. Rebecca said not to shower together, so naturally, she walked right into the bathroom, making a point of closing the door behind her.

"…Becca?"

"Guess again."

The warmth of the air was welcoming and almost felt needed, though she did have a fever. Ada sighed into the damp air, massaging her shoulders almost miserably. "It's freezing and Rebecca is going shopping. I thought I'd keep you company."

She heard him turn behind the shower curtain, the tattoo of water against his skin preceding whatever snaky comment he was taking his time to come up with.

"You don't really give me much leeway, do you? You should be in bed."

She completely ignored him, and instead bent down to unravel the bandages. "I'm leaving in three days."

"What? Why?"

"Let me in, and I'll tell you." she said as the bandages fluttered to the ground in a slightly stained heap. The wound itself was a small, grotesque hole of dark scabbing, and it was enough to effectively revolt her. It was the size of a quarter, and hadn't hit anything vital, or any important muscle. Hell, it hadn't even gone too deep, but it was still hideous to look at.

He said nothing and she took it as consent, curling her elegant body past the colorless curtain and smiling at him. "Nothing sexual, I promise."

Leon made a show of rolling his eyes, but it was a façade. "Alright, but… Can you explain?"

He stepped back to allow her in the jet stream, and her entire body relaxed as the comfort of warm water spilled over her body. "Mm…" The woman pressed her head against the tiled wall, eyes drooping as the illness wrapped it's arms around her.

As always, Leon had a kind gesture for her. He extended his arms, eyes very serious, but very soft from under his wet hair. "You're still sick sweetheart…" he murmured, pulling the woman close to him, rocking her gently.

He made this difficult even three days prior… "I got a call. I have to leave in three days for a mission."

Leon wanted to protest already, and she could feel it through the skin against her cheek, and she stopped him with a hand to his lips. "I know. I was shot in the leg, I am ill now, but I have to leave in three days."

The information was painful, full of thorns and foreshadowing a very difficult departure, and Leon was swallowing it with a bitter expression. "Where are you going?"

His hold tightened ever so slightly, as if she would turn into smoke right then and there. The thought of her leaving… again… was something he knew would happen. Why so soon, though? Three days held only a handful of precious hours to spend.

"I don't plan on telling you, for fear that you would follow me."

The truth was as bitter as could be. "Why do you have to go so soon, Ada? Is it that important?" he murmured into her ear, fighting a hopeless battle for a fleeting cause. She shook her head into the crook of his neck. "Leon, every mission is important. If I become incompetent, they cut me down."

"You can't get out, can you?"

She didn't answer him, just let the silence float amongst the steam. It wasn't a good topic of conversation for such a nice shower. The water was releasing some of the tension in her back, and w bit of soreness was slipping away under Leon's gun-worn hands. The moment of heavy silence seemed to pass into one of comfortable togetherness in which neither of them moved from the cradle of the hot water, or the serenity of a warm body and a devoted heart.

"Are you feeling any better?"

Ada smirked against his chest, nuzzling the sparse hairs on his collar. "Yes. Sore, but _much _better."

"Sit and I'll give you a massage."

"Leon, you are the only one I know who could hold a naked woman like this and think with the head on your shoulders, not the head between your legs."

"I'm flattered. Just sit, will you?"

So she did without further protest. There wasn't much space in a small tub, but it was fine, she wasn't uncomfortable leaning against Leon's chest as he sat himself behind her upon his knees, watching the shower knobs on the opposite wall distantly. His hands pushed her up slightly, and the calloused fingers scaled down her back, feeling the tension in the muscles. Those muscles underneath the skin were firm and powerful, showing an experience with fighting that could rival any man's.

"Ada, what kind of fighting were you taught?"

She turned her head back at the question with a soft "hm?" What a strange question.

"My own style, why?"

"Just curious as to how many flips a day you did to tone your back this much… and build up so much tension."

She chuckled, feeling his fingers dig into the knots and massage hot water into the creases of her ribs. "I could ask you how many times a day you trained to build up a pair of biceps like those."

"-And I wouldn't be lying if I said many times a day for hours a day until I actually was a competent fighter."

He pressed his knuckles into the small of her back, and she tilted her head. So he was examining her body, trying to figure her out? It was a valiant effort, commendable.

"Backflips are your specialty, I'm pretty sure of it now."

Well, wasn't he just the smartest crayon in the box? "For how long have you been thinking about my fighting style?"

He pressed his thumbs into the back of her neck, gently rolling the stiffness out. "Ever since you stabbed me in the leg in Spain-" He paused to press a finger to her cheek, halting what would surely be a rebuttal. "-which I completely deserved."

Ada turned her head, looking at the spot in question. Right above his knee, into the muscle of his calf, and all that was left now was a little white line. "Sorry for that. It was only self defense."

She brushed the back of her hand against the small scar, tapping it lightly.

"I know. I tried to choke you to death. Las Plagas just… grabbed a hold of my mind. All I saw was everything I lost, and I just was so angry for no real reason at you."

She remembered. She already knew. He was smiling like a maniac while squeezing as tightly as he could, snuffing her oxygen out, killing her slowly. Though his eyes were bloodshot red, possessed, she could see that these were his own feelings. That realization came to her as the air didn't, and she thought fast, acted fast, and drew the switchblade to save herself from Leon's internal daemon. Spain was an adventure full of surprises.

"Spain was taxing, but we made off well regardless."

His response was to kiss her between the shoulders. "Does your back feel a bit better now?"

"Yes…" -yet for some reason, there was a strange hollowness in her words. The shades and shadows of a spy were clogging something that rightfully should have been his. He wanted to know her, to learn of her, but… "If I could tell you what you wanted to know, you know I would."

Leon sighed, and she turned to face him. He tried to hide his lovely eyes behind a slew of blonde bangs, but to no avail. She saw a despondency there, a brooding that she… didn't like.

"I know you would. It's going to be hell watching you leave, Ada… I want to make the most of it, before you go."

"I'm not dying you know."

Her sarcasm was as weak as her softening resolve. Once upon a time, she could have slaughtered any man or woman without asking questions or batting an eye. Once upon a time, the prospect of leaving a man heartbroken and desolate was absolutely pleasurable. Right now, this man was already bleeding before she even set a foot outside the threshold, and she was half tempted to be called by his pain.

"The shower's getting cold."

"Mm"

It was, and the feeling was slowly sinking into her bones. It was a foreboding, slithering thing that crawled to the recesses of her mind. Parting was going to be like severing heartstrings for him, and… it could potentially be… damn difficult for her too.

No, she couldn't think this way quite yet. There were three days left to spend.

"Come on, Rebecca told you to sleep, didn't she?"

Three days were all they were going to have, weren't they? And then she would be off again, to see him only when the roll of the dice was lucky. Her thoughts would not stay silent, even as Leon spoke.

"She did… Leon-"

"Yeah, I'll stay with you if you want me to."

_So she slept..._

_Something, maybe someone, was pointing at her, but for what reason? There was danger, yes, and the faceless shadow before her radiated horror of which she had never felt before. That white, porcelain-skinned hand was curled and pointing at her._

_ "Didn't make it out alive." it croaked, like a bird, a sick bird._

_ "What?" she said, yet the word was soundless. Her lips formed the syllables, and there was no noise to accompany them. She brought her fingers to her lips, but they were… what the hell?_

_ Her fingers were peeling before her eyes, the skin folding over in small curls, blood bubbling out of the rims of her nails as if she was being burned alive! "What?"_

_ Still… there was no noise…_

_ "Dead and never coming back."_

_ The ivory hand wouldn't stop pointing! It was pointing at her! Ada brought her hands to her face, horrified. They were charring! Oh god! There was no sound! As if someone had pressed the mute button to the world… _

_ "Never."_

A faint hum of static and noise and the clicks of a television remote were the first things that her senses captured after being jolted awake. What a… confusingly horrid dream. She must have jumped, even a little bit, because she felt weight shift on the bed. From the shelter of her nest of quilts, Ada hid in darkness as her heart calmed it's erratic pace.

"Are you up?"

Rebecca. She was here. She must have chased Leon away. "Yes. How long was I asleep?"

"Well… it's nearly four thirty… you slept half the day…"

Ada sat straight up then, and immediately felt like she had been hit in the head with a dizzy spell. The world became recognizable, though it was rather dim… The only lights were the light of the television, and the light of a rainy day sky, gray as she had ever seen it. Half the day was gone already?

Rebecca rose to her feet, gently grabbing a hold on Ada's shoulders. "Woah! Easy there! Relax."

There was no time to relax even if she was in bad shape! There were only two and a half days left now. Two and a half days to… do something, anything to make this "vacation' memorable. "I feel fine. Where's Leon?"

"Making dinner, apparently. You should really just relax. He was going to wake you up to eat dinner early, then we were all supposed to go out somewhere."

Dinner? As in cooking a meal? As in cooking actual food, and wait… They were going somewhere? "I wake up to find an entire schedule prepared."

"Tell me about it. I come home, he spouts off all the things we are going to do tonight. Do you think he knows I live here?."

Ada chuckled. Well… at least the last half of the day was salvaged. "He might not." The woman swung her legs over the side of the bed, smoothing the creases in the lap of her nightdress. Leon was kind enough to have brought in her suitcase for her, and though she did not mind walking around shamelessly naked, it was nice to throw on the black silk nightdress to sleep in.

"I see you finally found your clothes. I was beginning to worry you didn't have any."

Rebecca smiled a very innocent, charming smile, and Ada shrugged, smirking. This girl was someone she could easily get along with, which was strangely rare. Rebecca seemed rather nonchalant about having an assassin as a house guest. Becca had a strange and rare child-like quality to her, and perhaps it was this concept of open mindedness, of just not accepting the statistics and facts. Was this the girl who experienced the T-Virus first hand? Was this a girl who escaped from the undead with a smile on her face?

The door opened, and from the draft came the aroma of something tantalizingly spicy. Whatever was cooking instantly received a sharp stab from her stomach, telling her to go and devour whatever was served.

"Hey, look who's awake. Good morning, it's time for dinner."

Leon's quaint little half smile was upon his face, and she found herself standing in the blink of an eye, faint feeling or not. "Already?"

"It's an early dinner due to plans later on."

"Which include… lots of things that he's not telling me." Rebecca added in, a slight frown on her face. Leon shook his head and simply turned down the hall.

"Come on girls, the food's ready."

The two exchanged an annoyed glance, and an amused one in turn, before they followed him down the hall. Appetizing scents multiplied in the air immediately, and the platter of meat and spiced rice on the tiny kitchen table seemed like the Holy Grail itself. Ada's dark eyes widened at the food, and the table setting, and… oh god she was starving.

He stood there like a hero, observing the dinner proudly, a half smile on his face. "Well, how'd I do."

Rebecca prodded the juicy roast with the serving fork, and Ada promptly sat down in one of the chairs. "Jeeze. I had no idea you could cook."

"It's not hard. All you have to do is follow the instructions and put spices on it." he retorted, pulling a stool from a lonely corner to join the table. "I picked it up when I was a teenager. Dad wasn't the most fantastic chef, so I cooked for myself."

Rebecca nodded contemplatively, filing through the cabinet to grab glasses for them all. "Yeah, I don't really eat much. Mostly sandwiches and whatever doesn't take much effort to make. I know I'm hypocritical, as a person in the field of medicine, but… hey, I'm not exactly home all the time."

Ada watched the steam rise from her plate as Leon dished the food out. Her cut of roast was thin, but cooked well and seasoned. It looked delicious. He gave her a small serving of rice and a ridiculous helping of vegetables, and though it was almost overwhelming, she couldn't pick her fork up fast enough to dig in.

"You do what you have to." he replied, stabbing an assortment of veggies to punctuate his comment.

"My mother used to own a restaurant. I helped with the cooking when I could reach the stove, but I never cook for myself anymore."

Leon turned his head slowly, as if he could not believe what he had just heard. Ada had actually said that? She actually said something about herself? This was unbelievable, but she nodded towards him, eating with impeccable finesse and eloquence. She held her fork as if she was holding a china teacup, delicately and with a firm two fingered grip. It was… almost unreal seeing this, picking things up by watching her in a normal setting.

Rebecca, however, was not as perceptive of the incredible thing that had just happened, and simply chewed her rice grains in thought. "Geeze, I wish my mom owned a restaurant. All she ever owned was the business end of a reception desk. Well, I guess it's what paid the bills before all hell broke loose."

Leon blinked a few times, nibbling a baby carrot. "What happened?"

"Same thing that happened to you in 98'. The T-Virus."

Raccoon City…

The three of them simultaneously paused in whatever they were doing, as if a chill air had frozen them for a brief second.

"It's fine now, live and learn, you know?"

Ada rose her fork, drawing the attention of the younger woman, pointedly. "Agreed."

Leon thirded this motion with a nod, raising his glass of water. "To living and learning, and Raccoon City."

They both agreed, and toasted without another word.

Rebecca took a swig of water and crossed her arms, the topic immediately coming to a close. "Where are we going to go at night, Leon? It's raining out."

"Well, I have a few ideas."

Ada quirked a brow at him through a mouthful of food.

"Like what? Clubbing?" Rebecca quipped, rolling her eyes.

Leon gave her a rather bovine stare, while Ada smirked around the tines of her fork. "That would be fun."

"No, we aren't going clubbing."

"So where're we going?"

Leon put a finger to his temple in mock annoyance, and Ada chuckled. "Someplace where we can just chill without watching our backs, if the weather is right."

"Okay Mr. Mobster, keep your secrets."

The title made a few things come into question instantly. "Mr. Mobster?"

"Leon here has a full fledged old style mob outfit that he wore to a costume party a while ago. He disappeared though, so we call him Mr. Mobster when he's hiding secrets."

Leon blinked and shifted in his chair and Ada burst into laughter. Oh the IRONY. Rebecca, of course, was completely lost on the joke.

"He lost the trench coat, right?"

"Yes! How-… Wait a second! YOU were the big secret?"

Leon smacked his palm against his face to express how ridiculous this felt as the two women laughed at the sheer _irony_.

"Oh god, that is so weird!"

"Tell me about it." he sighed, though really, the laughter wasn't a cruel kind.

The plates were empty within the next few minutes, and Rebecca threw her hands to the side, telling them to "just put them in the sink and we'll get it later".

He gave them a half an hour to "get ready". Apparently wherever they were going was not fancy, indoors and then outdoors, and for some reason they were to not wear formal things. Those three hints gave absolutely nothing away, in fact, they both felt more confused… Rebecca had said the hints were horrible, and that he should never bury treasure, which of course was immediately followed by "I'd be the one burying it, as I am Carmen San Diego."

They all agreed that this was a better solution.

Ada and Rebecca were rather incredulous when Leon had parked the black car in the lot of a local Coldstone ice cream parlor, and they both stared at him without a word from the back seat.

"Ice cream? Really?"

"Everyone likes ice cream."

Ada looked at Rebecca, and blinked a few times in confusion. She was used to light meals, gunfire, flamethrowers, grenades, machine guns… but ice cream was a wholly strange kind of deviation. It was so… harmless and sweet and… such a really bad thing to eat for her… but…

"I can't argue with that." she muttered, and Rebecca shrugged. Alright, so the spy was getting ice cream. The shop was cold, and smelled like sugar and vanilla, and Rebecca, true to her strange childish streak, went right up to the glass shield, and gawked at the display of colorful flavors. The tiny place was bizarrely empty, but even then, the older woman felt out of her element, staying a few paces away with Leon, who had curled his arm around her waist. The chill in the air made her glad that she dressed down from her typical attire. A wine-colored peacoat hugged her in warm barrier, a long black skirt sparing her knees and most of her legs from the cold.

"Ahhh, look at what we have here."

The person behind the counter was not all the type any of them expected to see. An old woman smiled at the trio, her wrinkled pale face seeming to draw them both closer out of curiosity. The vendor was short and as thin as a bean pole. Her face narrow and drooping wrinkles off it's frame.

"Ohh, what a beautiful young woman you have there. I remember when I was that age, I would come here for a sweet myself every day after driving the post. Ah, those were good old days, besides the War, of course."

Ada tilted her head in a small bow, a nod of thanks for the compliment.

The lady crackled a smile, curling her plastic-covered hands over themselves. "So, what can I get for you three? I always know what you want, though."

Rebecca grinned and nodded. "Really now? If I wanted something specific, you could guess what it was?"

Ada tilted her head, taking this all in like a sponge. Age had always been something that she found completely fascinating… And this woman had all the spirit of youth in her ancient bones yet.

"Yes, sweetie, I could. So, let me see… You are… a peanut butter lover, right? And you like chocolate too. I think a swirled shake would do you well."

And poor Doctor Chambers was stunned beyond words. This woman was a bizarre breed! A psychic! "And you, handsome. You like… You like a mix of berries and vanilla, don't you?"

Leon laughed. "She really does know everything." he murmured, and Ada kept the content smile upon her face that she had been wearing since they left. It was a good thing that she decided against lipstick for this escapade.

"And for the lady… Hm. Oh you are just a fireball, aren't you? You probably like coffee, coffee ice cream with a vanilla soda mix. I'll get you a float with just that!"

She clapped her withered hands together, and Ada made no attempt to hide her shock.

"How-?"

"I'm over a century old, little one! Have some faith in your elders."

Perhaps a little faith was all she needed… in anything actually. Ada shook her head and watched as the old woman expertly delivered the items she had correctly guessed.

Ada took the cold drink, looking at the vice in a cup in disbelief. It was simply unheard of, insane, too normal to be true, but here she was, taking small sips of incredibly delicious taboo. Leon had paid for everything and selected a tiny circular table for them to sit at, and she still couldn't believe this was happening though she was indeed, sitting here. It was too unreal…

"Why so quiet?"

She looked up from her drink with a "hm", and met the inquiring gaze of Rebecca. "It's strange, being normal."

There wasn't any use in lying. It wouldn't have accomplished anything to lie at the moment. Leon watched her, his own frozen strawberry vanilla combination bowl finished already and pushed to the side. "Normal is overrated."

Rebecca nodded to that, finishing the last of her shake. "I have no clue what the word means. For me, normal is a few patients with the flu a day, some vaccinations, and the occasional T-virus research projects."

"Normal for me is training, being a frequent flier, and somehow being borrowed by every major anti-bioweapons agency that gets my file." he sighed, shrugging.

"Normal for me-"

Killing without warning? Poisoning people? Stealing research, seducing men?

"-is varying from day to day."

Leon brushed her hand under the table, taking it between his calloused fingers and rubbing at the skin. His hands were hardened and scarred by the firing of an endless list of weapons, but hers were kept as soft as possible. Lots and lots of lotion was always needed to keep her fingers from developing that reptilian resistance, and she was fairly sure that he found it unnerving. How could a woman who had spent half of her life cradling a weapon, have such pristine skin?

How could a hundred year old crone tell your wants before you spoke? How did Rebecca escape the T-Virus so oddly unscathed?

There was no normalcy in them, in this normal day, and perhaps that was the beauty of it. It was a vacation of sorts, to an exotic place, the place where all the law abiding citizens live.

"So, where are we off to next, Leon?" Rebecca said as she stared at the empty cups, bowl, and solitary spoon in the center of the table, her lip curled as if to deny the fact that all the ice cream was gone.

Leon leaned back in his chair and shrugged. "Well…"

They both looked to him as he trailed off, waiting for the big discovery as to what his plans were.

"Come on. I'll show you both something incredible."

He rose from his chair, collecting the trash as he did and compacting most it into a single plastic cup. Rebecca followed him to the trash can, and Ada moved to join them, but the tap of a quiet hand stopped her. The old woman was behind her, twisting a damp rag between her gnarled hands, and she was looking at her with a light smile, a strangely sad smile.

"I remember when I was just like you. The bees knees. Oh, I hope you are lucky with your boy too. He's a very kind man, isn't he?" the woman sighed as if lost in a reverie for a moment. "Ah, but this old body isn't what it used to be. You two make this one feel older than I am. Go home and get some rest now, sweetheart."

The woman hobbled away, persistently lugging her ancient bones through the parlor. Ada had wanted to say something in return, but all that came out was, "Yes."

"Ada?"

She turned on her heels to see that they both were at the door, waiting for her, and she walked over without second glances. Normal conversation or comment was such a strange thing.

"What'd she say?"

"She told me to get some sleep."

It seemed as if he actually had gotten lost. He kept turning in random directions, around whole blocks of neighborhood, looking every which way for something that was evading him. The two ladies were quiet, though they did realize that what he was doing was rather odd. It had gotten dark while they were eating dessert, and the cold night sky was clear of rain clouds. The neighborhoods and roads near Becca's apartment were empty of human life already, though the night was young. Ada leaned upon the heel of her palm, her body feeling the lethargy of the day. Normally, she was a nocturnal creature, but she was as tired as could be. Sleep pulled on her eyelids as the car rolled along, and she cursed her own physical weakness. Lullabies were forbidden, yet here was the gentle music of the pavement and she was succumbing. Slowly, slowly… slowly…

"We're here."

Never had she been so reluctant to open her eyes. "W here is here?"

She peered through squinted eyes as the car light flicked on, and someone shifted to get out of the car.

"Come on sweetheart."

He pulled on her hand gently, and her head dipped in it's absence. Leon led her out into the small patch of grass as if she was a dancer, taking her hand into his own and walking backwards, the sudden rush of cold night air jolting to the senses. Ada blinked in the darkness, only the faint light of a dying street lamp offering any visibility.

"Look. Both of you… See that? Stars, just ordinary stars."

"Ordinary stars." Rebecca repeated, her voice slightly strained from fatigue, "Why bring us here to see the stars?"

Ada's head was tilted skyward, her hand still in his as she looked to the stars, those firefly ghosts in the dark. The stars were so strangely bright tonight…

"-Because. I want to show you two something that means a lot to me. I want you two to make a wish on one of these stars."

A wish upon a star? Was he joking? No, no he couldn't be… Oh Leon… What was he doing? "Leon, why?"

"Those wishes won't ever leave you, like these stars. Every time you look at stars, you remember that wish you made. No matter where you are, no matter where you go, you can always look to the sky for the stars."

There was a draining feeling in her chest, a feeling of such… sadness. He was giving her something she couldn't forget, couldn't lose, and that would stay with her forever and wherever she went. He was… a hopeless romantic. Wish upon a star? What would she even wish for? She was the woman who never made wishes, never complained about her position, and never dwelled upon a dream, yet here she was, being asked to do something she was taught not to do. There was no wishes in a mission, only success or failure. You did not hope for success, you chased it down yourself. There was no time to dream or to hope for better days, just to plan how you would survive through tomorrow.

Perhaps though, just maybe…

_ 'I wish-'_

There was one wish she could make, one simple wish upon the stars. Was this the time to allow hope? Her espionage mind held her head down, because if there was any hope, the mission would be more difficult to accomplish.

_ 'I wish-'_

And then Ada herself turned her eyes to the heavens, eyes drinking the sight of several little lights, staring back at her. She needed something now, some sort of hope that would always follow her, wherever she went, the ghost of him that she needed.

_ 'I wish to always return to you, Leon…'_

A fleck of light dashed across the sky like a blade point, cutting through the darkness of the sky with a silver edge.

"A shooting star." he murmured into her ear, having not left her side, nor dropped her hand. She nodded, and Rebecca sighed.

"What did you guys wish for?"

Leon shook his head at her, and chuckled. "Can't tell you, or it won't come true."

_This place was endless in its turns and crooked halls, every single rusted bar of every single cell wall looking the same as the one beside it. The walls were so blindingly silver, yet the cell bars were red with rust and decay. Her heels clacked loudly with every step, but other than that, this place was completely and utterly silent. It seemed so disgustingly out of place for a prison to be quiet. No doubt there was something very wrong with this place. She turned the next corner to see yet another winding hall of empty cells, and Ada shook her head in irritation. How on earth was she supposed to find what she was looking for when this never ended, and there was no map to guide her? The woman put her hands upon her hips, the fabric of her red dress creasing under her fingers._

_ "Well... this is irritating."_

_ When those words left her mouth, if was as if she had pulled the trigger. Something wailed, a painful, horrible sound that echoed off of every wall. Ada tensed, reaching for the gun at her thigh, her steps quieting considerably as she rose to her toes. The scream came again, closer this time, more violent and strained than before, and she pressed her back against the wall, the reflection off the body of her gun enough to see that the corner was clear. Ada pivoted around the corner, and met the body of a glass door, the solitary door at the end of the hallway. _

_ She didn't walk near it, yet it opened, and she automatically aimed to fire, drawing ever closer. There still was that eerie silence, the quiet that not even the hum of technology usually penetrated, and all she could hear was the steady sound of her calculated breaths. _

_ Every step was careful, catlike in its precision and grace as every step took her closer to that door. Her eyes sought something out of place, but it felt as if there was nothing misplaced…that this was all intentional. Logic screamed otherwise. There was no call for this room to appear as a white, sterile operating room. It was so blazingly blank and absent of color, a contradiction to the appearance outside. She wasn't certain why it looked as it did, instruments scattered about rolling tables and silver counters and paper surrounding an empty gurney in the center._

_ There was no doors exiting this place… so… where had that scream come from?_

_ Ada did not lower her gun. _

_ Thunk._

_ The sound of something hitting the ground triggered a violent pivot. _

_ "What-?"_

_ She couldn't find the words in her mouth, in her mind. It seemed to have fallen from somewhere, from the ceiling perhaps. Before her, curled up on the floor, was a tiny infant, a just born child, perfect and new, wrapped in a soft blue blanket. The child seemed completely and blissfully unaware of the predicament that he or she was in, big eyes closed and little hands curled into tiny fists. There was not one thing that had ever more unnerved her. She had seen dogs with half the meat hanging in gory strips off their bones, she had fought zombies, Hunters, hideous plaga creatures, and Tyrants, and yet nothing had ever seemed as disturbing as this. Ada did not lower her gun as she approached the… thing… _

_The baby stirred, and she tensed, her eyes wide and disbelieving. Was it human? Her hand reached out to touch the little creature, kneeling to examine it. It seemed hideously cruel that her gun was poised at it's head as she reached to touch it, but one couldn't ever be too careful. Her hand brushed it's soft, brand new skin, and the baby whimpered. _

_ "Are you human?" she murmured, and the little creature let out a tiny cry. It seemed human, but…_

_ "I need to tell headquarters about you, little one, then they will take care of you."_

_ Ada holstered her gun. "But you can't stay here. Human or not."_

_ She curled her arms under the small thing, marveling at how light it was, pulling it close to her and turning to leave the way she had come. _

_ She should have known better… Ada let out a yelp as flames exploded from the tiny bundle, and the poor thing wailed in innocent agony as it fell from her hands…_

She jumped awake, flinching so hard that the mattress squealed at the movement. Ada huffed feverishly for a few decent mouthfuls of air, her heart pounding against her ribs. What a nightmare… What a horrible nightmare…

Ada sat up, draping her legs over the bed frame and gripping the carpet with her toes. The second night in a row for nightmares, and normally she did not dream. The woman shook her head slowly and stood, mind full of that dream.

Like a child waking from a bad dream, she found herself drawn to something that comforted her. Leon had taken up a comfortable residence upon Rebecca's three seat couch, and now was lounged like a pampered cat, one leg on the cushions, one awkwardly hanging over the edge. He slept comically, but she wasn't laughing. Leon slept like someone who couldn't stay still, who continuously was dreaming.

"Why are you still awake?"

His voice made her flinch. She was caught.

"Are you alright?"

"Dreams…"

He sat up, the blanket falling from his shoulders and gathering at his waist. "About what?"

"I don't know…"

She sat down beside him, and he wrapped her in his muscled arms, kissing the side of her cheek gently. "You're shaking… Ada?"

She didn't let things get to her. She never let things bother her, and yet… she was shaking, drawing her knees to her face to calm herself. Nightmares, she just dealt with them, but they always made no sense, or were brief and fleeting.

"I am not accustomed to dreams."

It was an excuse, spoken rather flatly to cover the weakness that she hated to show. He knew though, he knew her weaknesses almost as well as he did… He knew what irked her, where her sensitive spots were…

"Being around zombies and parasites does that to you. Do you want to talk about it?"

"You tell me what you dream about, and I'll tell you."

The man was quiet for a moment and he shifted, plucking the blanket up and curling it around them both. "Do you really want to know?"

She leaned into the warmth, security and comfort of another body and a blanket. "Of course."

"I dream about Raccoon sometimes, nightmares about the T-Virus and zombies. Sometimes I dream about Spain. Sometimes I dream about places where I've gone, people I've met… I dream every night. Sometimes nightmares… sometimes faraway fantasies."

"Your worst nightmare?"

He was quiet. "My worst nightmare… was you dying in my arms."

She set her jaw. "In all seriousness, or are you just flattering me?"

Leon pressed his lips against her jaw, not kissing, just resting them upon her skin. He seemed as if he never wanted to break contact, as if she'd disappear at any moment. It was believable, and yet unreal that it was his worst nightmare. Had she not "died" in his arms before?

"I choose both A an B. And U, too."

The cheesy play on words was lightening despite the circumstances, and she could feel the lopsided tilt of his half smile upon her cheek.

"Ada, I love you."

The three words were a tonic that made all of the previous ailments go away. It made small sparks shoot up and down her spine, through her heart. Love… Was this the kind of love they only wrote in over dramatized spy novels?

"I love you too, Leon. _I love you_."

Why, then, was this so difficult to say? Was a dream, something that was the "child of an idle brain" as Mercutio once said… was a dream something she could not trust to him? Trust was not the issue here, it was something else. Was this shame? Was she shameful?

"I have had nightmares, two now, ending with fire, with my making a mistake and burning. No zombies, no plagas, just my own death."

"Are you afraid?"

"I don't know yet. Do you think it means anything?"

He didn't say anything at first, taking a few seconds to absorb the question. "I don't know, sweetheart."

She didn't know either. Dreams were completely subjective to the host of them, and for some reason… she just couldn't identify what inside of her mind, what strange piece of her was telling her to burn.

"Don't think about it too much. Nightmares are just nightmares-" he paused as his expression warred between troubled and accepting, as if he could not decide which would be more suitable. "Nightmares happen. Don't let them get to you, okay? You'll be fine. After all, you _are _my dangerous, beautiful assassin."

The comforting words were kind, sweet, and they made her smile slightly, more out of amusement than comfort. Of course they couldn't hurt her. They were just delusions, just dreams.

"Of course. I mean, I am wanted in every major international world power. I can handle a little dream, no doubt. I'm staying, by the way."

He chuckled at her. "I expected nothing different."

The two were virtually intertwined under the thick blanket, sharing the pillow and the heat to drive away the cold winter chill. One day had passed, and already she was yearning for it again. She wanted to experience his cooking again, eat ice-cream again, and look at stars just once more.

Nightmares didn't come to either of them, for they were both caught in their wishes and dreams, both nestled in complete comfort despite the crowded couch, and both dreaming of those stars, and how their wish was right now, true.


	4. Part IV

_A/N: Thank god it's done XD. This was incredibly hard to write, because this entire section of the tale is subplot. X_X I'm... meh about this chapter XD... Once more, thank you Marna 3... And all my devoted reviewers, thanks for sticking around when I'm so slow D:._

**Of Love, Loss, and Betrayal**

**-Part Two-**

**I do, I've done, I shall do**

_ "Agent Wong, we've read your report. You must go to Las Vegas and rendezvous with the contact we will provide you. We have no doubts about his intentions. There is a meeting occurring between the European Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance, and the pharmaceutical company "Tricell". There has been allegations as of late, as new evidence has been turned up against them. The B.S.A.A. has power to investigate Tricell, but not the power we need. Investigations have ended up fruitless. That is why we are sending an undercover agent, and you. Agent Noir is a top operative of ours, and also the chairperson of the European B.S.A.A. She will assist you in your covert work. If Wesker decides to act on his alliance with Tricell, and interrupt the operation, then we will have proof of his connection. However, we are not certain he will act at all, so your primary objective is to retrieve data from the Tricell members present, and send it immediately. _

_ "I understand."_

_ "Don't miss the flight Wesker has booked for you. You are following his payroll, but our command. Diagrams of the Bellagio and notes from Agent Noir have been sent to you. Agent Wong, good luck._

_ The transmission ended, and she leaned against the bathroom sink, the night air pressing upon her. No doubt in her mind that Tricell was harboring the Tyrant Virus. Even G and Las Plagas wouldn't be hard to believe. It was a medical and financial monster, Umbrella's former rival, and now Wesker was involved. Heads were going to roll before this conference was up._

_ Ada shut the lid of her transmitter, rolling the fabric of her nightgown up to strap the device to her thigh again before walking right back over to the couch and collapsing when nestled in his arms once again._

_ "How is Wesker?"_

_ "Very angry last time I checked. That wasn't him."_

_ "How many people do you work for? Are you on my side now?"_

_ "Leon, I've **been **on your side. Now shut up and go back to sleep."_

_ "Yes ma'am."_

Today her flowers looked pale and sick, but then again, today was Monday. Beginning every week, her flowers were as dry as brittle bone in their lonely little vase, left to fend for themselves because Rebecca, as brilliant in the field of medicine as she was, was not the best doctor for plants. The poor things were tulips this time, their once silky petals resembling pieces of charred paper. Rebecca sighed as she traced the balcony railing behind her, shaking her head at the sad sight.

"Maybe by the end of this year I'll be able to keep a few of you alive. I mean, it was my resolution this year."

The plants didn't respond to her, though the pre sunset pink seemed to make the quartet of flowera even more solemn. The woman bit her lip and felt the need to apologize.

"Are you that lonely?"

She jumped, flailing at the voice and stumbling away from the balcony, and he laughed.

"Sorry babe, didn't mean to scare you."

"Billy, it's six in the morning and you're creeping around the scaffolding! Of course it would spook me!"

Billy Coen just laughed at her retort. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Can I come up now?"

She smiled, nonetheless. "I guess so."

After all, he was holding a batch of fresh flowers in his hand. Billy climbed the stairs and looked at her vase with a sigh. "You know, you should really put them inside this time of year, it's still cold as hell."

After quite a handful of years, he hadn't changed one bit. Sure, his hair got a little longer (which was now pulled into a loose ponytail), and he had acquired a fine grain of stubble on his chin, but the guy hadn't really changed much.

Billy was a bit of a paradoxical person. He had all the appearance of a man who had it rough, but he did not fully play that role. His eyes were dark and sharp, always on the alert for something, but those same eyes were uncannily soft at times, caught in some kind of reverie.

"Yeah perh-aaahhh!" she squealed as he plucked her off the ground, swinging her around effortlessly before returning her feet to the ground. "Bill-!"

He cut her off with one of those deep kisses of his, and Rebecca promptly forgot what she was about to say. When he pulled away from her mouth and offered her the flowers, she laughed, blushing lightly.

"Nice to see you too, you creeper."

"Hey now, I didn't feel like coming inside."

She leaned in to peck him on the cheek lightly. "Whatever. I have company, though."

"Company?"

He blinked as if not understanding the concept, and frowned deeply. "What do you mean, company? You have distant relatives over or something? It's not that creepy co-worker of yours again, is it?"

They simultaneously grimaced, and she shook her head. "Nope. It's a government agent and his assassin girlfriend."

He stared at her while she flashed that toothy smile, and could only say, "Huh?" before she shrugged and stepped away. "Yeah, I made a habit of breaking the law."

"Uh, Princess…"

"I know, I know. I'm going to get into trouble someday."

"Dollface…"

"I know, I'm a hypocrite."

"Rebecca!"

"What?"

"Happy Birthday!"

She blinked as he shouted and threw his hands into the air. The two words rung through her head like a reverberating church bell, and yet it still didn't make any sense. Wait… birthday? What? Her…. Birthday? It was today?

Rebecca's hands pulled up to her face in utter confusion, fingers touching her cheeks.

"What? Today?"

"Geeze, you forgot again? Do you do that on purpose?"

He laughed and put a palm on her head, mussing up whatever order her hair had been in. This made two years in a row that he had to remind her.

"Er… uh… Well… I guess I just got preoccupied. Thanks Billy."

He kissed the tip of her nose and she smiled. "Do you want to come meet my friends now?"

"Sure, birthday girl. An assassin and a government agent, right? Sounds like we could throw one hell of a party for you."

Billy put his arm around her shoulder as she slid the glass door aside, shaking her head in a firm "no". You know I don't like big parties."

"I also know that you need a break from work and a special birthday."

She didn't know whether to shrug or agree. The past few weeks were as hectic and emotionally taxing as ever, for a small outbreak of Tyrant Virus in the Philippines had her preparing vaccinations on site, killing zombies, and quarantining the area. Billy had insisted to come with her, to which she refused instantaneously, though when the loneliness of the situation set in and zombies started to show up… She regretted leaving him behind. When the mission was deemed a success, that week in zombie island had her mental state in a depression. She had seen little kids transform into flesh eating horrors, been almost bitten by one of the infected dogs, and after no sleep for a good long week, bright and cheery Rebecca Chambers felt as if the sun would never shine. She came home and he was waiting for her, so she told her entire experience and cried into his shoulder, until her eyes were sore and chapped, apologizing over and over for leaving. Rebecca made an effort to bounce back, but…

Perhaps she did need a little bit of a break.

"You okay?"

She nodded. "Just thinking about agreeing with you."

"Well, how about you agree with me and let me take you to dinner and a dance?"

"But-"

The voice came out of absolutely nowhere, cutting her off, "You can go out. We're fine. Happy Birthday, Rebecca."

Ada watched them from the living room threshold, a bemused smirk on her face. For this woman, it seemed as if there was no such thing as "too early" to be dressed up. On her was a sleeveless red dress that tied at the neck, reaching to just about her kneecap and hugging her body tightly. She wasn't wearing shoes or stockings, but with dismay, Rebecca noted that she had taken the bandages off of her leg.

"Billy Coen, a pleasure to meet you."

Ada bowed her head in a greeting and the man nodded back. "Likewise Miss-…?"

"Ada. Ada Wong."

Billy blinked. "No, really? Geeze. Ada Wong… I heard rumors way back when about you. Said you were some kind of super soldier."

She chuckled under her breath. "Or just a soldier who happens to be a woman."

Billy shrugged, and Rebecca slipped from his arm, marching right up to her, a scolding finger extended. "What on earth do you think you are doing? I told you not to take the bandages off until tomorrow!"

Rebecca was about four inches shorter than her, probably quite lighter, and yet she had the potential to be intimidating.

"They are unbearable. It hurts more to wear them."

"Well then take some more painkillers! Do you want your leg to start festering?"

The smirk had left Ada's face, and by now, she was half amused, and half annoyed. Those stupid bandages had become a nuisance. Her leg was healing incredibly well, though that sharp soreness had not left yet. The thought of more constricting bandages putting pressure upon the injury made her frown.

Leon, who had materialized from the kitchen, stopped to stare at Ada's back pointedly. "Ada, listen to her. You know you can't afford any injuries."

_Further _injury would be more accurate, but the message was quite clear.

"Are there any alternatives to the bandages? I can't walk or run properly wearing them."

Rebecca bit her lip slightly. "The only option is to go with a lighter wrap. Do you need to be running or walking anytime soon?"

Leon was a shadow now, her shadow, standing behind her and staring just over the top of her head. He was inquiring without saying anything by stepping closer. He was wanting to know more than she was telling him again.

"Come on, let's let the boys acquaint themselves, and I'll see what I can try for your leg. I think I might have an idea…"

Ada made a motion to look behind her at her ever present shadow, but she did not, instead nodding and following Rebecca down the hall without further word to either of them. She would explain herself later.

"So… she really is an assassin?"

"Maybe."

Leon had offered to make breakfast, that's how it started. The dawn was kissing the tile in the kitchen, so he had turned on the oven light. Ada perched upon the counter beside him, enjoying the crisp scent of toast and melted butter so early in the morning.

"I didn't think you kept copies of any of your outfits."

"Mm?"

"You wore that same kind of dress nine years ago."

Ada gave a curt nod, a smirk playing over her face. "Were you fantasizing about me even then, that you remember the exact cut of the dress?"

There was little time for fantasy back then, but that little time was enough. He had conjured up images that never died nine years ago. There were soft flickers of thought in Raccoon City, thought of to escape with her. What would they have done after escaping though? It felt as if he was in a dream, a fleeting fantasy that was too good to be true.

He turned to face her. "I have a good memory."

She "hmm'd, a few black wisps of hair dancing in front of her distant eyes. "Yes, it is the same kind of dress. I have four in total."

"Four… Does Wesker know about your spending habits?"

There was no humor in his voice. Whether it was due to the fact that he too was encapsulated in some kind of memory of the dead city, or because the sound of Wesker's name automatically slid a can of worms into every sentence, she couldn't say for certain.

"A few dresses aren't going to compromise his budget."

"You don't use your own money?"

She quirked a small smile. "Now Agent Kennedy, that kind of question is rather confidential."

Leon laughed quietly and plucked the frying pan off of the stove, dishing eggs to a set of plastic plates.

"Ada?"

"Mm?"

"Can I give you my number?"

He didn't expect her to laugh, and when she did, he frowned. She was _laughing_, actually busting at the seams with a clear and true _laugh_. It was apparently the funniest thing in the world, because she was holding her sides like they would fall off.

"And I haven't even gotten to the funny part yet." he murmured.

"Ha ha, oh Leon… I can't call you even if you give me your number. Not through anything of mine, anyways."

It was just funny for some reason. From Raccoon City, to Spain, to Brazil, to Nevada, to this little town, the situation prevented acts of this kind of normalcy. Now he was asking something considered "normal", and it was just too funny coming from him to her.

"Can you find some way to get into contact with me when you are on this mission?"

In Las Vegas, of course she could find a way, but…

"That's incredibly dangerous to do, Leon."

He prodded bits of cooking bacon and said nothing for a good long while.

"At least let me know you are alright."

The humor in the situation had easily slipped into an early grave. This simple infiltration mission was quickly becoming something negative, on it's way to becoming something she did not want to do, and had qualms against. It was never a good thing when an spy had something on their mind, and Leon was a knot in her heart that was quickly tightening.

"I will." she sighed. "You are such a difficult man."

He smirked and winked. "And you are as stubborn as an ass."

She quirked an eyebrow and frowned, slipping off her counter perch and crossing her arms. "I'd rather not be compared to a donkey."

He just chuckled and scraped the bacon off the pan with a wooden spoon.

"Want to take it back, handsome?"

"You really feel like it's not an accurate comparison?"

He was teasing her, and she was just playing along. Ada pursed her lips out of distaste and grabbed the hilt of the wooden spoon, twisting her wrist and plucking it from Leon's hands.

"You want to take it back?"

He smirked, raising the spatula instead and twirling it in his hands. "En garde?"

She was certain she was supposed to take it as a joke, but instead, she leaned into a stance, holding the spoon in front of her as if it were a dagger.

A knife fight with Leon made her body tingle with excitement, or in this case it was spatula versus spoon.

Her lips curled into an aggressive smirk, and she pushed off of her good leg, diving and jabbing for his hip. "I've been practicing."

He jumped from her and parried her spoon, blocking with the slightly greasy hilt of the spatula. "Oh, really now?"

He swung upwards, knocking her spoon away, but she leaned back and gripped the head of the spoon, pushing his attack back.

"Yes." she murmured, jumping back and bringing the spoon to her chest. Leon watched her carefully, spatula at the ready in front of his body. He was mindful of her, perhaps too much so. Her bad leg was simply an anchor, yet his eyes were darting to it. "Game over." she chuckled, and rushed him, jumping off her good leg and swinging her weapon violently. Leon's eyes widened and he bent himself back, raising the spatula in defense, but it was no use as her foot found his chest as a hold. Ada pushed him to the floor, using the momentum to propel herself backwards into a sharp spin.

"Agh!"

She held the spoon to his throat as he lied on the tiled floor, with a sigh and a frown, and now a soreness in the center of his chest.

"Seems like your leg is feeling better."

"Take it back, handsome." she purred and tapped his neck with the spoon head.

"Alright. You are as stubborn as an ass, but I'd have you no other way, after all, you are the sexiest ass I know."

She rolled her eyes. As cheeky and almost cheesy as he sounded, it stroked her ego, and she couldn't help the smirk on her lips.

"It's good to know of all the tail you've chased, I'm still the best after all these years."

"I think you'll be pleasantly surprised when you hear I'm absolutely horrible with women, and chased very little." he replied, plucking himself off the floor and busying his hands with food once again.

"You?"

It was true, though it was almost unbelievable. He had the looks, the charm, the all around personality of a saint, so absolutely nothing should have stood in the way of him and an army of gushing girls. Leon even had a _name _that was attractive. What, pray tell, could have separated him from all sorts of closed door affairs?

"Yeah, me. Unlike you, my career doesn't involve my sexuality, and my career ate my social life. Plus… the only girls I get to see on a daily basis happen to be the president's daughter and Claire. One would probably get me fired, and Claire…"

Leon paused in dishing potato bits to sigh deeply, face distorting as if remembering something buried deep, something difficult and painful to recall. "I'm not going to pretend we weren't ever involved. We were, years back, before Spain. It didn't work out very well. She called the entire thing off after a few weeks."

He shook his head slowly, closing his eyes. "Claire's my best friend."

"Nothing more?"

"Nothing more or less."

She had no right to be jealous, yet her lips curled into a frown.

"We'll tell them after breakfast."

He changed the subject, she accepted the change. "I still find it funny that _you _would want to leave so early."

"I can see Becca any day that suits me. I can see you once every blue moon. If you have to leave, I want tomorrow with you."

The chill air was nothing to his warm words.

Breakfast went and passed, lunch was a large birthday pizza (they didn't have cake), and they chatted. Billy gave stories, Rebecca talked of work, strange sights and fashion, to which Ada related with a firm opinion. Leon monitored, cooked, and added his own two cents between every few sentences.

Nightfall brought an air with it that not one of them could deny. They stood outside before Billy's sleek black car, all dressed for an adventure, two dressed to go dancing, and two dressed for a night at a hotel.

"So… you guys are really leaving when I'm gone? I mean… You'll come back again, right?"

Leon and Ada exchanged a glance, dark eyes meeting light, and did not answer immediately.

"Of course Becca." he said, flashing her a small smile. Ada did not say anything, simply smiling the empty smile she typically did. When they were who they were, nothing was ever sure. Ada kept the corners of her mouth in that mechanical smile, the smile that hid everything behind it's elegantly painted lips.

"…"

Billy placed a hand on Rebecca's shoulder and squeezed softly, nodding to Leon. "You better not screw up. Come back and visit sometime."

The youngest of the four bit her lip, fiddling with the silk material of the pale green dress that seemed to flutter around her knees aimlessly.

"You guys better be careful, okay? I mean… I won't be there if you jump in front of the line of fire again, or something like that."

She took a shallow breath and sighed. Whatever Leon was willing to risk everything for, she hoped, prayed that it was worth it, that this undoubtedly beautiful woman was rightfully precious. The gears were turning behind her eyes, thinking of the future, what they must have shared to have come to this. Leon kept her as a mystery, she kept herself a secret…

"It was nice meeting you two. Maybe we can share a cell when we are all caught."

"Sounds like the perfect plan." Ada chirped, and her eyes sparkled in genuine amusement. "Be prepared to escape as soon as possible."

Billy gave her a mock salute and Leon shook his head, as this entire scenario was sadly possible. Rebecca just looked up, and gave her sweet smile, waving as Billy opened the car door for her. She paused and glanced over her shoulder, taking one last look at the couple. What a pair. They contradicted each other in almost every possible way, from appearance, to personality, to profession. Hell, they were even analogous where colors were concerned.

"Hey, Leon. Keep it in your pants in my house."

Leon scoffed and Ada grinned.

They watched the car pull away, disappearing at the end of the block.

"…do we have to listen to her?"

"You realize we are going to a hotel in an hour, right?"

The Blue Heel was something of an anomaly in town, that is, due to no one knew quite what to call it. It was not a hotel, nor a bar, nor a club, it was a confusing mix of all three. There was no noun in the English language to describe this cross, so when speaking of it, patrons simply referred to it as "that really fancy place". Amongst every corner there was a richly stained set of tables and booths, matching the dark wood of the floor. The décor was elegant, flashy, and gave an impression of deep "film noir". The lighting was dimmed, the smell of perfume and spices hanging in the smoky air. It was a top brass place, full of beautifully dressed people with fat pockets, the scent of expensive wines floating amongst tobacco smoke.

"Rebecca."

"Huh?"

She had been staring at him again, she knew it. What a strange feeling to be in love, and she knew she was in love, that this full and intense feeling was love, and nothing else. They had been to hell and back together…

"To answer your question from1998, I have been fantasizing about you." she said, holding the small glass of wine and raising it slightly to draw his eye.

"I think you have had enough wine, don't you?"

She only smiled in that completely innocent way of hers. "Yes, yes I do."

She was stunning, breathtaking, beautiful, and he didn't even attempt to go on, for he wouldn't be able to stop. Her eyes were shining like lanterns, her cheeks were positively red from how much she decided to drink, and her lips looked so inviting in that cute smile of hers… He was condemned to his decision from the start, wasn't he? He didn't believe in fate or destiny, but he did believe in luck. He was a lucky bastard.

"Becca, can I ask you something?"

She drained her glass and nodded, eyes sparkling. "Sure."

She laced her fingers together and watched his expression.

"Rebecca, it's been nine years."

"Has it?" she murmured, drifting away lightly to a world of their memoirs. "Five on my count. You spent four years hiding."

"Ah, yeah… Eh, I'm no good at the sentimental speech thing."

She laughed a laugh that reached her eyes. "No, no you aren't. Why don't you just spit it out?" she drawled, leaning on the backs of her palms in interest. Billy was fidgety and hilariously nervous, two things he wasn't on a daily basis. The man with the dark eyes and the eighties hairstyle was the man who always had a firm foothold in himself. He never faltered or seemed to care if he was in danger, and now he was obviously nervous, and it was just so funny.

"Becca… well…"

"I'm going to keel over from the suspense here."

She didn't expect what happened next, but he got onto the ground, face lit up with a dashing smile, one knee before him in the most awkward kneel she had seen.

"Marry me."

Her eyes widened, and she had to brace herself against the ground with her heels to keep from _actually _keeling over. No king, no emperor could have looked more regal and handsome as he did just then, with his awkward kneel and his chestnut-colored mullet. She covered her mouth with both hands, beautiful eyes as wide as saucers at what she saw. Spectators eyed the sight, some actually clapping and whistling approval.

"I-… Yes! Yes a thousand times over! What took you so long?"

Rebecca didn't care what everyone else thought of her as she jumped from her seat and tackled the man to the ground in a bone crushing hug and a breath-stealing kiss.

What a hell of a way to celebrate a birthday.

They were quiet on the road, but this was a comfortable silence, broken only by the sounds of the eighties humming from the radio. The ride was a long one, however, and eventually, bored enough to begin the conversation, Ada looked away from the car window.

"Have you ever been to Chicago?"

"Yes, actually. I saw "Chicago" in Chicago, when I was eighteen or nineteen. It's a very interesting city, but it's cold as hell. Not so sure about the usefulness of a short-cut dress in a place like that-" he paused, glancing at the next road sign before continuing. "And you?"

"Yes. A long time ago." she purred, yet her purr was more to appease him than express her feelings for the city.

"A mission?"

"Mm… A long time ago."

"You were really young when you got into this, weren't you?" he murmured, and she shrugged, disregarding the question.

"You could say the same of yourself."

Old age was a very rare occurrence in either of their cases. When you weren't in your prime, you were not as competent, and more of a waste of your employer's pay. While the stakes were much higher in her case, it was the same principal that both followed. Yes, she was adopted into this world from a very young age, younger than even Leon must have thought. Her thoughts trailed like the road, long and winding, going back to the horizons of many yesterdays ago.

"I'm going back to my birth town."

"You were born in Chicago?"

Her eyes closed lightly, for a good few seconds of heavy silence. "Not in the literal sense, but yes."

Her answer aroused his curiosity, and was equally frustrating. She wasn't saying anything further on the subject.

"I find this city annoying." she sighed, pursing her lips in distaste at some kind of personal vendetta.

"Any reason why?"

She just shrugged again and he smiled out of amusement. "Well, maybe after a night there, you can find the city less annoying."

Her eyes fluttered at that, and she sighed softly, a sound of complete content. In any other situation, she would have been planning five steps further ahead. The target would continue to talk, and she would continue to answer, while the script of her thoughts was being written before the car was parked, and before the hotel room was rented. Here and now, the world felt at peace in this car, as if she didn't have to be anywhere or plan anything…

"You okay?"

"I _am_." as if it was a revelation. The here and now mattered more to her than the future… For some reason, something seemed to have floated away just then, a heaviness she couldn't explain. Her posture seemed to slump, and she tilted her head back, closing her eyes, basking in this feeling of complete serenity with her surroundings.

"I think we need to pick up the pace." she drawled, her lips curled in a familiar smirk.

"You are horribly insatiable, you know that?"

"Are you complaining?"

He peered at her from the corner of his eyes, shades of blue smiling at her, telling her "not at all". Yes, she was at peace here, with her mobster, her criminal. It was a revelation that reoccurred, a repeating thought that she breathed in freshly every time. Perhaps it was because the clock read a horribly inhuman hour, or maybe it was just something in the air, but for some reason, the smile on her face was genuine, and her body was not in any calculated position. She felt like herself.

They rented a hotel room from a place that was average. It was simply average in every way, shape and form. There wasn't much in the way of aesthetically pleasing design, with color being the only unifying factor in every room. Pale wallpaper, pale bed, pale tiles on a pale floor. It was rather confusing to the poor kid at the reception desk, as to why on earth the two newlyweds decided to stay here of all places.

For the receptionist, this wasn't the epitome of "romantic". People, just average people, came in here every day, blending in with the pale atmosphere perfectly. The two that showed up around four in the morning, however, were far from average at first glance. The woman was smiling, a sharpness and experience in her face that he just couldn't pinpoint, and the man was tall, with a sort of sympathetic look in his rather well-toned face. The sight drug him out of the monotony of his job, and he spent a bit of care in actually getting them a room, simply to study these two. He was a bored college student, an intelligent young man, and colors in a pale place, red and blue, were something very interesting. They took his slowness with incredible patience, both looking rather happy about something.

He gave Anna and James the room key at last, and James actually paid the amount in cash. He watched them walk away, and pondered it. It was so rare to see people like that, people who were not simply pale nameless faces. The student sighed, lying his head back on the desk, and chiding himself for reading too much of that god-awful literature study. He was thinking too much about something that was very mundane. Curse his advanced placement.

The door closed and they dropped the bags at the threshold. He claimed her lips immediately, not bothering to turn on any lights. She sighed between their lips, allowing him to pin her against the door, closing her eyes. Leon was a person of emotion internally, someone who practiced stoicism and yet could not deny things that struck him a certain way. When he felt something, it was latent in his skin, buzzing beneath the surface. His lips spoke conversations without a word, a release from his mask, a release he seemed to crave more and more.

"Will we ever learn?" he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers.

"Learn what?"

She pecked him between the two words, and he smiled slightly. "I don't know. How to make it to the bed?"

The humor was stale and cracked, like a fragile shell for his thoughts. He worried too much, thought too much for an agent, but this was his personality. It was something he didn't crush when he dawned his uniform, unlike herself. Leon was thinking of something, perhaps her departure, perhaps of the entire situation they were in, and his eyes were thick with question.

"Stop worrying. Stop." she crooned, pulling on his wrists and slipping away like water, drawing him away and fluttering down to the mattress with a soft sigh. "You worry too much."

"You worry too little."

He hesitated then, to walk after her, to press his lips against her long neck and forget his problems and pains. "Ada… I-"

She cut him off slowly, with a fluid pull of his collar and a tender kiss upon his lips. That kiss every time was traitorous, poisonous, a widow's poison fed so delicately and beautifully, that it became something more than the kiss of a spider. He knew it with every kiss, that he had sold his soul to her, to this gorgeous red devil.

"Stop…" she murmured again, with force this time, that force being her exposed shoulders as she slipped the dress down to her elbows, red melting away from her light skin. Her hands were enough to cup his face, bringing him to the crook of her neck, where he simply stayed for a moment, breathing the scent of her in.

Moments like this were precious and could be counted upon his fingers, cupped into his hands and released like butterflies. That was what she was, though, wasn't it? As he pulled her clothes off, her dress down to her thighs, he really was rubbing the scales off of her wings, the gaudy colors off of her skin. His fingers traced her thin neck, and she smiled up at him, tilting her head back and inviting him in, into her world and body until his senses were flooded. Ada pulled on his shirt, flicking it away, enjoying the feel of thick muscle and scars under her palms.

"You are definitely a soldier."

A soldier following butterflies, wasn't he? There were knife wounds, thin white scars from metal stairs, scars from combat, from training… they were too many to count. Most were paper thin, tiny, and nothing more than mere bumps on his skin, but she could feel them all. His body was a canvas of things, a story itself, and she wished that he would elaborate on these scars, for she knew only three of the stories in his body, and not the rest.

"You noticed. So, do you think scars are sexy?"

She hummed- "Depends on how you got them."- and kissed the scar upon his cheek, Krauser's mark.

"You must have watched us fight."

She chuckled. "Maybe."

He let her trace his scars with teasing kisses and licks, inquiring with her tongue about each one, guessing and pondering, teasing him all the while.

"Not in a hurry?"

Ada pulled away from him briefly. "Now that you mention it…"

He stiffened as her fingers slipped into the hem of his pants.

"I am not a patient woman." she purred with a grin.

"Want me to undress you then?"

"Naturally."

He smirked and pressed his lips to her stomach, pushing her back, forcing her to lie against the sheets, which she didn't fight against, not moving her legs from their place over the edge. Her dress came off slowly, with his hands prodding simply for the sport of infuriating her. She flinched as the fabric pulled at her bandaged leg, but growled in warning. The man knew that if he stopped due to that, he was liable to get a swift kick in the face.

"Get your pants off, we are burning moonlight."

He rolled his eyes, he did as he was told, and he leaned foreword, letting their sexes kiss wetly over the edge of the bed. Legs curled behind the man's back, regardless of whether her thigh was aching or not. Skin to skin contact, it was so ridiculously empowering, so damn sexy, that she shivered into it.

"Mmmm…"

"Ada, I'm not agitating your leg." he growled, a demand.

"Wha-"

He took her by surprise with that strength of his, curling his arms and plucking her off her feet by the waist, which was electrifying in itself.

Her hips were just at the right angle, he had her pinned against the headboard, and it was electric the way he moved, the way he cared and the way he kissed. He coddled her in every correct way, testing for her sensitive spots and exploiting every single one. With every motion, she swear she could feel the static in his skin, through him as he slammed again and again into her body. She clawed his back without fail, she kissed his neck until it was raw, until there was so much pressure and so much static, that she had absolutely nothing to say. There was no comments, only her restrained gasps, only her moans and his animalistic hisses and grunts.

She saw stars, she swear she did, but perhaps it was the dawn glinting off the sweat of his back…

She didn't even need to wish on these.

"You okay?"

"Just sore."

"Leg hurt?"

"Just sore…" she repeated, downing the two red pills and bracing herself upon the sink for a moment. In reality, her leg hurt terribly.

"You don't seem the type to pop pills. Is it bothering you?"

He was her shadow again, standing behind her and looking into her reflection's tired eyes.

"It's just sore, Leon. I am fine."

"Liar."

She glared at him then, but he held his ground against it, glaring right back.

"Let me massage it, then we can go back to sleep. You need it."

She touched her temple and nodded. "Fine."

She had awakened from a dream, another dream, this time more vague than the last… More vivid and somehow she remembered nothing but the feeling of _drowning…_

"Hey, do you want to walk around this place tomorrow, if your leg feels better?"

"Mm… I should. I need to get clothes before I leave."

"…you need **more **clothes?"

She rolled her eyes. "There's no such thing as too many."


End file.
